BX  8495   .H4  A3  1853 
Henry,  G.  W.  b.   1801.  | 
Trials  and  triumphs  (for 
half  a  century)  in  the  lifi 


1 

Digitized  by 

the  Internet  Archive 

in  2014 

https://archive.org/details/trialstriumphsfoOOhenr_0 


i 


frials  anil  (Triuiujjbs 


(FOR  HALF  A  CKNTUJ 


IN  THE  LIFE  OF  G.  AV.  HEXm 


KXPEBIENCED  WHILE  SOJOtRSlSG  FORTY 
OXE  YEAR  1-V  THE  SL0V6U  OF  DESPOXP, 
TWILIGHT,  AND  SIX  YEARS  IS  THE  L 


TOGETHER  WITH 


THE  RELIGIOUS  EXPERIENCE 


TO  WHICH   ARE  ADDEII. 

(Pnc  tjunibrcii  Spiritual  Songs,  roitli  Ulnsic. 


Thy  land  shall  be  called  Beiilah.— Isa.  Ixii,  4. 


SECOND  EDITIOX, 


PUBLISHED  FOR  THE  AUTHOR. 

200  MULBERRY-STREET,  NEW-YORK. 


iitoied  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853, 

BY  G.  W.  HENRY, 

tlie  (Jlerk's  Office  of  the  District  Conrl  of  tlie  Southern 
District  of  New-York. 


PREFACE. 


Respected  Keadek, — 1  am  about  to  put  forth  to  the 
world  the  second  edition  of  the  history  of  my  life. 
As  in  the  first,  so  also  in  the  second  edition,  two  ob- 
jects present  themselves  to  my  view.  Fii-st :  to  in- 
form the  reader  what  a  great  Saviour  a  great  sinner 
hath  found ;  and  pray  most  fervently  that  he  might 
take  courage,  and  if  he  has  not  alreatly  done  it,  start 
this  moment  from  ruin's  brink,  and  take  refuge  under 
his  almighty  wing,  and  be  happy  now  and  hereafter. 
Secondly : — another  motive  in  sending  forth  this 
silent  preacher  and  narrative,  is  to  make  it  a  channel 
in  conveying  temporal  blessings  to  the  cottage  of  a 
poor  blind  man,  and  his  afflicted  family, — ^in  short, 
to  do  good  and  get  good.  I  have  also  been  en- 
couraged to  put  forth  the  second  edition,  because 


4  I'KEFACE. 

luiiidictis  liave  told  me  they  had  been  greatly 
blessed  ill  reading  tlio  blind  man's  book ;  and 
some  of  those  that  fii'st  found  their  way  to  the  school 
district  libraries  were  worn  out  the  first  three  years, 
and  a  second  volume  purchased  by  the  trustees. 
Another  reason  is:  there  were  some  little  mistakes  in 
the  first  edition,  which  I  wish  to  correct,  as  I  know  this 
little  book  will  live,  and  speak,  and  have  its  influ- 
ence after  the  author  has  passed  the  portals  of  death, 
and  meet  him  at  the  general  judgment.  Another 
l  eason,  and  that  I  tliink  more  prominent  than  all 
the  rest:  1  had  just  entered  into  the  suburbs  of  the 
land  of  Beulah,  or  peifect  light,  when  the  fii'st  edi- 
tion was  issued.  T  wish,  therefore,  to  inform  the 
reader  something  about  its  boundaiies,  the  fertility 
of  the  soil,  and  of  its  delicious  fruits  ;  of  its  gigantic 
inhabitants  and  bulwarks ;  and  encourage  the  reader 
to  sell  all,  pack  uj),  and  move  over  at  once.  The 
Scripture  truly  hath  said,  "  It  is  a  goodly  land ;" 
but  as  far  as  I  have  travelled,  the  half  never  was 
told  me. 

T  have  not  a  single  ajwlogy  If  make  on  tho 


subject,  or  commeiulation.  The  book  must  speak 
for  itself,  and  tlie  reader  may  judge  for  himseltl 
He  will,  doubtless,  find  it,  like  the  unpretending  au- 
tlior,  no  great  things,  but  a  life  of  half  a  century 
made  up  of  getting  into  difficulty,  and  then  getting 
out  again ;  but  I  hope  the  kind  reader  will  shun 
the  evil,  and  embrace  the  good,  if  good  he  can  find, 
in  such  a  life  of  errors.  This  is  not  wiitten  with 
any  feeling  of  vainglory;  for  there  are  many  things  the 
author  will  be  bound  to  write,  which  he  could  heartily 
wish  might  not  be  found  in  the  review  of  his  life, 
but  which  he  believes,  through  sovereign  mercy, 
and  the  goodness  of  God,  arc  all  forgiven.  The 
picture  of  my  life  will  have  something  tlie  appear- 
ance of  Nebuchadnezzar's  image.  If  we  begin  to 
look  at  its  feet,  they  were  part  of  iron  and  part  of 
clay ;  while  its  legs  were  of  iron  :  so  the  outset  of 
my  life  was  comparatively  worthless.  As  we  ele- 
vate the  eye,  we  find  the  material  of  the  image 
increasing  in  beauty  and  value ;  for  its  thighs 
were  made  of  brass.  Looking  a  little  higher,  we 
find  its  richness  still  increases;  for  its  arms  were 


6  PREFACE. 

of  silver.  And  as  we  look  upon  the  head  of 
the  statue,  we  find  it  a  lump  of  pure  gold,  of  a 
thousand  times  more  value  than  all  the  rest  of 
the  image.  So,  reader,  if  you  travel  with  me 
from  the  follies  of  my  youth  to  the  present  time, 
you  will  find  me  in  the  gold  region,  or  in  the  land 
of  Beulah,  where  I  am  not  able  to  count  my 
riches,  but  am  still  digging  for  more.  And  unto  the 
divine  hand,  who,  througli  his  sovereign  mercy  and 
boundless  grace  hath  brought  me  into  these  gold 
legions,  is  this  work,  with  all  my  ransomed  ]X)wei"8, 
most  solemnly  dedicated.  Amen. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Author's  birth  and  parentage  Page  13 


Remarks  on  human  nature — Phrenological  character,  by  O.  S. 
Fowler— A  cure  for  light-flngered  propensities,  tobacco-chewing, 
gambling,  and  drunlienness   14 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  Author  a  "lady's  man"— Account  of  first  courtship  and  first 
Ijall,  with  comments  contrasting  society  for  tliirty  years  28 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Military  career— Coal-burning  — Wall-laying  — Pretty  daughter  — 
Boiled  pudding— Musical  instrument— Advice   40 


CHAPTER  V. 

Hires  out  to  a  farmer- Horse-racing— Refusing  to  bet— Turns  ped- 
ler — Pedlers  and  mothers  compared- Goes  to  making  cow-bells 
—Partnership— Takes  a  tour  West- Incident— Returns  and  set- 
tles in  Frankfort— Temporary  blindness— Trip  to  New-York— 
.Adventures  —  Dreams  —  Pocket-book  speculation  —  Unfavourable 
issue— .\.  sudden  death— Universalist  sermon— Solemn  reflec- 
tions  rA 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Tavern-building— Bad  luck— Bell-making  again— Failure— Removal 
to  Pennsylvania— Another  attack  of  blindness— Contract  on  Pub- 
lic Works- Building  locks— More  misfortune— Petitions  Legis- 
lature for  remuneration  for  loss— Granted— Railroad  contract- 
Extensive  business  with  small  capital— Bad  luck  again— The  U. 
8.  Bank— Stops  paymcnt—Tavern-kceping— Consequent  misfor- 
tune—Polilicnl  changes   72 


CONTENTS. 


CIIAPTKU  VJI. 

U.  S.  Bank  of  Pennsylvania  chartered— Another  raih-oad  contiact 
— The  old  ^  foe,  bad  luck,  again— Bank  shut — Rotten  currency — 
Canal  contract  — Lawsuit  — Favourable  decision  —  Reflections — 
Further  history  of  the  U.  S.  Bank  of  Pennsylvania — Political 
strife— Death  of  the  "Monster"— A  retrospect— Courtship  and 
marriage  Page  94 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Introduction  to  Spiritual  Life,  and  last  contract — Steam  mill  in 
Virginia— Prospects  bright  for  a  large  fortune— Reflections  on  his 
religious  views— Lorenzo  Dow's  sermon — Pleasure  excursion  on 
the  holy  Sabbath— Sickness  and  arrest — Sudden  death  of  a  be- 
loved daughter — Severe  sickness  at  Martiusburg — Depreciation  of 
currency— Property  and  hopes  of  fortune  blighted— A  solemn 
night  in  Baltimore — Visit  to  Col.  Colston — Remarks  on  Slavery — 
Perilous  advcntui  o  and  providential  rescue  fVom  a  watery  grave — 
Kyosiijht  failill^'— Last  attempt  to  mend  a  broken  fortune— Ad 
dro.ss  to  the  l  eader— Pulls  up  stakes  for  Pennsylvania  108 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Total  blindness— Covenant  with  God — First  time  at  mourner's 
bench — Devices  of  the  devil — 'Wrestling  in  prayer — To  the  reader 
— More  devices  of  the  adversary — Goes  to  Washington — Remark- 
able dream— Its  cfl'ect  upon  his  mind— Visits  a  physician- No  re- 
lief for  blindness— Goes  to  Baltimore — His  associate's  character 
described— Settling  business— Methodist  meetings— A  Love-feast 
—Asks  the  prayers  of  the  brethren— More  penance  for  sin— Prayer- 
meeting— The  Sabbath  and  the  first  communion — .\nguish  of 
mind  lest  guilty  of  sin  in  so  doing — Hope  and  despair  alter- 
nate—The Bible— Singular  coincidence  in  turning  to  a  particular, 
passage — Horrible  doubt — Another  remarkable  dream,  and  its 
singular  likeness  to  the  one  at  Washington— Faith  strengthened 
and  hope  renewed— Return  to  Pennsylvania — Attends  quarterly 
meeting— Love-feast— The  devil  again  at  work— Deep  conviction 
— Fear  of  prejudice — Goes  to  the  Presbyterian  Church — Remarks 
deduced  from  this  course- No  relief,  and  less  conviction— At 
Greeneastle,  Pennsylvania — Another  dream,  and  its  similarity  to 
those  of  Washington  and  Baltimore— A  crumb  from  the  Master's 
table — A  camp-meeting— Retires  for  prayer  in  the  solitude  of  the 
forest— No  relief— On  the  mourners'  bench  again— Displays  of 
God's  power — Tremblings  and  spasms — The  devil  at  his  old 
tricks— Unitarianisni— Trouble  of  mind  about  the  Trinity— Thun- 
der-slorm— Hope  revivfd— lielrospeotiou— Sins  forgiven  137 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Spiritual  Life  continued— Thouglits  on  the  new  bivlh— Heavenly 
joy— Review  of  the  past— No  sectarianism— All  Christians  speak 
the  language  of  Canaan — Camp-meeting  continues — The  pi-ayei- 
meeting — Another  assajilt  of  the  arch-fiend — Temptations  ami 
spasms— Asks  God  agsiin  for  relief- The  light  shines  in  upon  his 
soul — Victory — The  camp-meeting  breaks  up — Return  home — 
Prayer  for  his  wife's  conversion— First  letter  to  his  mother— An- 
other camp-meeting,  compo^ied  of  negroes  and  white  people — 
More  remarks  on  Slavery— A  rich  gospel  feast— Tlioughts  on  the 
movings  of  the  Spirit— Satan  busy  again— Happy  scene  in  the 
preachers'  tent,  and  close  of  the  meeting  Page  102 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Spiritual  Life  continued— Another  camp-meeting— Satan  renews 
his  attacks — ConviUsions — The  Spirit  grieved — Prayer  and  relief 
—A  glance  at  business— The  depravity  of  the  human  heart— Cor- 
porations have  no  souls — Consolations  of  the  gospel— Story  of  the 
converted  heathen  186 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Death  of  his  father-in-law— Reflections  from  Dr.  Young,  suggested 
by  that  event — The  first  prayer  at  the  family  altar — Worldly  tri- 
als and  temptations — Account  of  his  wife's  seeking  religion — 
Prayer  for  her  conversion — The  appeal  answered,  and  her  change 
of  heart — Reflections  on  the  danger  of  carnal  security  191 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
Trip  to  the  North- Another  remarkable  dream— Happiness  on 
awaking— Thoughts  on  the  resurrection—Journey  to  the  South 
—Visit  to  the  Blind  Institute,  Philadelphia— Determines  to  learn 
brush-making- Description  of  the  institution— Interesting  inter- 
view with  the  pupils— Return  to  Greencastle— A  little  about  5Ior- 
monism— Goes  to  work  at  his  new  trade— Success  in  brush-making 
—Reflections  200 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Spiritual  life  conliuuetl— The  doctrine  of  holiness  of  heart  and  en- 
tire sanctlfication— His  mind  awakened  to  the  subject — A  sermon, 
and  his  contest  with  the  minister — Prayer  for  the  blessing  of 
|)erfect  love    210 


10 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

I.ii'eiiseil  to,ex)ioi  l— First  attempt  at  Greencastle— The  devil  busy 
again,  and  trouble  in  speaking— Resolution  to  do  the  will  of  the 
Lord,  according  to  the  strength  given— Further  experience  in 
exhorting,  and  success— Another  camp-meeting— Thoughts  on 
camp-meetings  generally — His  happiness  during  the  period — The 
breaking  up  of  the  assembly,  and  the  parting  scene- Return  to 
the  place  of  his  boyhood— An  additioii  to  the  family  circle — 
Preaches  at  Grain's  Corners— The  devil's  whispers— Victory  over 
the  adversary — Licensed  to  preach — More  attacks  from  Satan — 
Another  dream — Favourable  interpretation — Success  in  preaching 
—Jacob  and  his  dream  Page  213 


CHAPTER  XVL 

Deep  conviction  for  holiness — The  gold-diggei's — ^Unbelief— Foul 
birds — Presumption — Unworthiness — Sanctification  essential  to 
preserve  justification — Hlastrated — A  great  mistake — Price  of  the 
spotless  robe— Darling  reputation— Camivmeeting— Brother  Gor- 
liam  relates  his  experience — The  author  sanctified — Entrance 
into  Beulah— Scriptural  terms- Address  to  the  reader— Recapitu- 
lation—The  three  friends  221 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
Address  to  the  reader— Christ's  mercy— Five  events— The  land  of 
Beulah— Close  of  the  camp-meeting— Grave-clothes— The  second 
touch  in  the  case  of  the  blind  man  238 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Visit  to  a  backslidden  brother— Moral  courage— The  devil  turned 
out-doors — Pure  motives — First  Sabbath  after  camp-meeting — 
Coat  of  mail— The  devil's  chief  business— Blunderbuss— The 
preacher's  diploma  243 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Mrs.  Henry— Marriage  a  type  of  Christ's  union  with  his  Churcli— 
Promises  to  the  poor — Narrative  resumed — Prayer  for  a  dear  wife 
—Trials— Mrs.  Henry  joins  her  luisband  in  Beulah— Rapture- 
Little  boy  and  girl  converted  249 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Religious  state  of  Frankfort— Prayer-meeting  at  the  blind  man's 
cottage— Faith— Growth  in  grace— The  water-level— Father  Roper 
— Protrneted  meeting— Mr«.  Henry''  oxhnrtntions— A  dream.. 334 


COXTEXTS. 


C  HAPTER  XXI. 

A  misslonnr>"  spirit — Praise  acceptable  to  God — Birth  of  the  author's 
little  book— Capital  stock— Instruments  selected  by  God— The 
jaw-bone— Encouragement— Faith  in  the  midst  of  difficulties— 
The  little  book  printed— Sale  of  books— Itinerant  Held- The 
mind's  daguerreotype  of  ft-iends — Remarks — ^Thc  old  man's  time 
to  shout  *  Page  260 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Camp-meeting  iu  M'Connellsville — Mrs.  Henry's  affliction — Sister 
Koon— The  reward  of  self-denial— Brother  Squii-es— Descent  of 
holy  fire — Cure  of  spiritual  pride — Elizabeth  AVard — Faith's  vic- 
tory—Brother Hartwell— Leaping  for  joy— Love-feast— Battle- 
grounds— Camp-meeting  in  Schuyler — The  balloonist — Making 
money  out  of  the  devil — ^The  test  of  Christian  graces — Subjects 
of  prayer  2(iS 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Birth  of  a  son — The  night-blooming  Cereus — The  idol — Death  of 
Charles  Emorj  — Consolation  of  religion— Poetry— Value  of  perfect 
love  estimated — Illustration — Danger — Prayer  270 


*  CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Blessed  trials — Resignation — Committing  to  memory  i)ortions  of 
Scripture — The  miner's  wife — The  joy  of  faith— Counting  up 
riches— Faith  in  God's  promises— Health  restored— Mrs.  Henry 
on  Mount  Pisgah — Affliction — Mrs.  Henry  near  death — The  au- 
thor's prayer  and  exercise  of  faith — Wonderful  display  of  divine 
l)ower — Improved  health  of  Mrs.  Henrj- — The  physician— Inci- 
dent  279 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
Rev.  .Ies.sc  Penfield— Methodist  church  built  in  Frankfort— Glorious 
revival— Brother  Wyatt— The  great  feast— Brother  Henrj-  drunk, 
with  the  wine  of  the  kingdom — Comparison  between  the  two 
kinds  of  wine— Two  recipes— Good  morning,  brother  pilgrim.. 287 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Prospects  brightening- The  great  book-auction— Visit  to  the  Blind 
Institute— The  class-meeting— Remarks— Iticident^The  Sabbath- 
school   298 


]2 


C'OXTKNTS. 


OHAPTEK  XXVII. 
Ki  lling  books— Opportunities  for  usefulness— Conversion  of  Charles 
Wendall— Mrs.  Henry's  diary  Page  .103 

CII.^PTER  XXVIII. 
Labours  at  the  poor-house— Granny  Taylor— The  pauper  and  the 
poor-master— The  duty  of  the  rieli— Dives  and  Lazarus— Gew- 
gaws—Preacher's  salary- The  silver  hubs— Soiling  Heaven ..  310 

CII.\PTER  XXIX. 
Canip-meeting  at  Augusta — Peculiar  exercises— The  lawyer's  lady 
—The  lame  healed   .".21 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
Birtli  of  a  son— Disappointed  hopes— Loss  of  a  horse— Subscription 
raised— Another  providence — Tlio  infidel  and  the  old  saint — Be- 
nevolence of  Judge  Wright  and  L.  M.  Brown — Five  dollars  for 
one— A  word  to  local  preachers   .129 

CHAPTER  XXXL 
liellections — The  cause  of  tenificrance — Reasons  for  joining  the  Sous 
of  Temperance— Slavery— Mrs.  Stowe— Narrative  resumed— Re- 
marks uiKjn  holiness — Close   3S8 


LIFE  OF  GEORGE  W.  HENRY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  was  born  in  Hatfield,  Massachusetts,  January  G, 
1801.  My  fathei-,  Robert  M'Knight  Henry,  was 
reared  in  tlie  city  of  Hartford,  Conn.  My  mother's 
maiden  name  was  Chirissa  Merry,  daughter  of  John 
Mei'ry,  of  West  Hartford,  near  the  city  of  Hartford. 
Soon  after  my  birth,  my  parents  removed  to  Her- 
kimer County,  N.  Y.,  where  T  have  ever  since  re- 
sided, excepting  the  time  I  was  engaged  on  pubhc 
works  at  the  Soutli.  My  ftither  died  when  I  was 
about  three  yeaj-s  old,  and  I  have  no  remembrance 
of  him.  When  I  was  about  six  yeare  old,  niy 
mother  married  again  to  a  farmer,  by  the  name  of 
Thomas  Kinney,  then  and  now  residing  in  the  town 
of  Litchfield,  in  this  county,  with  whom  she  is  still 
living.    I  am  her  only  child. 

To  detail  the  events  of  my  boyhood,  which  was 
marked  by  nothing  extraordinary  until  I  was  about 
eighteen  yeai-s  old,  wlien  I  commenced  business  tor 
myseltj  would  be  but  little  better  than  a  waste  of 


14 


TRIALS  AMI  I'KIL.MI'HS  IN  THE 


paper,  and  a  loss  of  time  to  the  reader  to  peruse  it. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  during  that  time  I  lived  with 
my  relatives,  worked  on  a  farm  summers,  and  went 
to  school  winters  ;  and,  like  the  generality  of  boys 
of  that  age,  was  more  fond  of  play  than  study,  and 
more  fond  of  hunting  than  work.  Nevertheless,  I 
am  thankful  that  I  was  always  kept  tolerably  close 
to  work. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Throughout  the  family  of  mankind,  every  indi- 
vidual seems  to  have  some  leading  propensity,  which 
accom2)anies  him  through  life,  and  determines  his 
fortune.    Or,  as  it  has  been  said  : 

"  There 's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  as  we  may." 

And  as  "the  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man," 
and  more  especially  the  study  of  one's  self,  I  have 
given  my  attention  somewhat  to  the  observation  of 
"  man,"  as  developed  in  others  as  well  as  in  myself. 
I  have  learned,  in  the  course  of  my  life,  that  we 
know  but  little  of  our  neighbours  until  we  have  had 
dealing  with  them  in  some  business  operation.  I 
have  found  a  great  many  men  virtuous  and  appa- 
rently honest,  till  a  tempting  opportunity  was  pre- 
sented for  them  to  be  otherwise,  and  tlien  their  vir- 
tues and  honesty,  like  some  ]>eoj)le's  patience,  when 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IlENUY. 


15 


most  needed,  were  found  to  be  absent.  Men  are  not 
always  what  they  appear.  In  the  course  of  my 
diversified  life,  having  experienced  almost  every  va- 
riety of  fortune,  from  opulence  down  to  pinching 
poverty,  from  brilliant  success  in  business  to  perfect 
failure,  I  have  often  proved  the  old  adage  true,  that 
piosperity  gains  friends,  but  adversity  tries  them. 

But  as  it  is  my  business  to  give  the  events  of  my 
own  life  in  this  narrative,  I  shall,  in  the  outset,  pre- 
sent the  reader  with  a  picture  of  my  character,  as 
drawn  by  Mr.  O.  S.  Fowler,  in  1837,  and  leave  the 
reader  to  compare  this  picture  with  the  facts  I  shall 
narrate,  and  judge  whether  it  is  "  drawn  to  the  life." 
When  the  phrenologist  had  finished  examining  my 
head,  and  committed  it  to  writing,  I  read  it  care- 
fully over :  when  I  came  to  any  portion  that  looked 
rather  bright,  that  I  was  >villing  to  accept  as  about 
as  it  should  be ;  but  in  perusing  the  whole  picture, 
I  found  quite  a  number  of  features  not  very  pleasing 
to  look  upon.  At  these  I  shook  my  head  in  some 
doubt ;  but  on  the  "  sober  second  thought,"  I  was 
forced  to  yield  myself  a  convert  to  the  science  of 
phrenology,  and  I  can  say  like  the  woman  at  the 
well  of  Samaria,  I  found  a  man  that  knew  all  about 
me.  I  shall  leave  the  reader  to  draw  his  own  con- 
clusions, and  entertain  his  own  views,  of  the  science 
of  phrenology.  It  will  bo  remembered  that  I  was  a 
perfect  stranger  to  Mr.  Fowler.  But  I  can  go  no 
further  with  phrenology  than  the  natural  man  is 
concerned  ;  although  some  degree  of  enterprise,  and 


1(5  TRIALS  AKD  TKIUMFHS  IN  THE 

very  likely  the  natural  bent  of  mind  may  be  carried 
out  in  spiritual  things,  as  in  the  case  of  Paul  after 
his  change  from  nature  to  grace ;  Paul  the  apostle 
now  showed  the  same  degree  of  zeal  and  enterprise 
in  preaching  the  gospel  from  city  to  city,  that  Saul 
of  Tarsus  had  before  done  in  persecuting  the  Church 
of  God.  His  propelling  powers  had  only  taken  an 
opposite  direction.  The  predominant  principle  is 
equally  seen  in  both  characters,  which  only  shows 
that  the  most  salutary  gifts  of  God  may  be  per- 
verted to  the  worst  purposes.  And  without  some 
such  pervei'sion  of  the  original  gifts  of  Deity,  the 
faculties  of  the  mind,  either  by  the  immediate  pos- 
sessor of  them,  or  by  his  progenitors,  (for  deformities 
like  debts  may  be  entailed,)  it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  their  manifestation  would  be  always  right. 
But  man  has  sinned,  and  grace  must  purify  the 
heart.  But  I  promised  to  give  you  the  words  of 
the  phrenologist.  Here  you  have  them,  and  you 
must  judge  for  yourself: — 

"  Capt.  G.  W.  Henry  is  a  most  peculiar  genius, 
and  possesses  strong  powers  of  thought,  and  very 
strong  passions,  both  of  love  to  friends,  and  of  hatred 
to  enemies.  He  will  go  any  length  to  assist  those 
to  whom  he  takes  a  fancy  ;  and  yet  his  hatred  and 
vengeance  are  most  bitter,  and  his  remarks  about 
them  biting,  sarcastic,  and  caustic.  His  jokes  both 
sting  and  tickle.  He  compares  the  objects  of  his 
displeasure  to  some  most  disagreeable  object,  and 
has  a  most  violent  temj^er.    He  will  bear  long  be- 


LIKE  OK  Ci.  W.  UKSKy. 


17 


fore  he  gets  tiiUy  roused  ;  yet,  after  that,  wont  be 
pacified,  and  is  quite  haughty.  His  powers  of  mind 
are  great,  (to  where  lie  will  he  cuts  a  figure,  and 
is  always  bold,  enteri)risiiig,  eflicient,  resolute,  drives 
all  before  him  ;  yet  is  much  more  cautious  than  he. 
appeai-s  to  be ;  plans  on  a  large  scale,  and  thinks 
that  /te  can  do  almost  anj^hing  that  anybody  else 
can  do;  hiis  the  utmost  confidence  in  himself;  is 
thoroughgoing  in  all  tliat  he  undertakes ;  will  please 
himself  fii-st,  and  others  afterwards,  and  never  can 
cancel  his  opinions,  or  cliange  liis  course  of  conduct 
in  order  to  get  the  jwpular  favour  ;  is  always 
honourable,  yet  very  conscientious  ;  does  not  know 
that  lie  can  do  wrong ;  never  takes  advice ;  exces- 
sively fond  of  debate  and  opposition,  and  courts  con- 
test ;  great  in  argument,  and  will  do  well  to  make 
slump  speeches ;  loves  to  get  money,  and  will  not 
allow  one  cent  that  belongs  to  him  to  l>e  tsiken  from 
him,  and  yet  spends  it  extravagantly,  and  must  al- 
ways liave  the  best ;  has  a  great  share  of  mechanical 
genius,  and  is  really  a  genius  in  making,  building, 
or  constructing  anything  that  lie  bxkes  hold  of; 
can  invent  and  contrive  ways  and  means  to 
etJect  mechanicsil  operations  which  are  new,  and 
just  answer  the  purpose;  will  make  a  wonderful 
man  tor  engineering,  etc. ;  builds  also  a  great  many 
castles  in  the  air :  full  of  hope,  and  promises  himself 
the  greatest  success :  one  of  the  best  naturetl  of  men 
when  he  takes  a  fancy  ;  not  at  all  devout  or  religious, 
\ery  incredulous ;  a  very  great  lady's  man.  Gt)es 


lb  TKIALS  ANJ)   riUl  Ml'll.-s  IN  lill-; 

the  whole  figure  in  everything ;  blows  out  his  whole 
mind,  and  has  no  hypocrisy  ;  eminently  courageous, 
fond  of  children,  and  will  do  a  great  business. 

"  O.  S.  FOWLEK. 

"June  28tli,  1837." 

Here  you  have  Mr.  Fowler's  opinion  of  the  man  ; 
and  I  would  again  remark,  that  he  Lad  never  seen  or 
heard  of  me  until  I  was  placed  under  his  hands. 
Let  us  take  a  stand  here,  in  the  middle  of  our  jour- 
ney of  life,  and  take  a  look  backwards  and  forwards,  - 
and  see  how  much  tiiic  character  the  phrenologist 
has  guessed  out ;  for  it  is  said  that  guess-work  is  as 
good  as  any,  if  you  only  guess  right.  As  Mr.  Fowler 
has  given  some  good  and  some  bad,  I  sliall  be 
obliged  to  do  the  same,  as  I  told  you  in  the  begin- 
ning I  should  have  to ;  and  as  some  things  must  be 
told  which  may  not  be  palatable  to  the  sober  and 
gray-headed  reader,  I  shall  ask  him  to  skip  over  all 
such  incidents,  and  pass  on  to  where  he  will  find 
something  better  suited  to  his  taste,  and  leave  the 
lighter  subjects  to  such  as  relish  them. 

There  are  foiu-  vicious,  or  sinful  besetments,  to 
which  I  have  been  subject  at  some  periods  of  my 
life ;  and  in  stating  what  they  are,  I  will  also  give 
their  preventive  or  cure.  They  are  theft,  gambling, 
tobacco-chewing,  and  drunkenness.  The  phrenolo- 
gist has  stated  that  1  was  always  honourable;  but 
you  know  it  is  said  there  aiv  excejitions  to  all  general 
rules.  It  is  so  in  this  case.  In  looking  my  life  over 
carefully,  1  have  no  recollection  of  committing  more 


LIFE  OF  O.  \\  .  HKNKY.  I'J 

than  one  single  act  \vliereby  I  exposed  myself  to  the 
penal  law  of  my  country,  although  I  find  a  thousand 
errors  and  mistakes.  I  recollect  that  when  I  was 
quite  a  little  boy,  I  had  a  most  ardent  desire  for  a 
penknife,  and  it  was  a  rare  thing  in  those  days  for  a 
boy  of  my  age,  li\nng  in  the  country,  to  have  a  knife, 
or  a  sixpence  to  get  it  with.  But  I  had  occasion  to 
go  to  New-Hartford,  a  village  a  few  miles  from  my 
home;  there  I  entered  a  large  store  -without  any 
money,  or  any  expectation  of  getting  a  knife,  and 
requested  the  merchant  to  show  me  some  of  his  arti- 
cles. He  immediately  handed  down  a  pack  of 
knives,  and  laid  them  on  the  back  end  of  a  long 
counter,  and  told  me  the  price  of  them  was  two 
shilHngs  and  sixpence,  and  left  me  to  examine  them, 
while  he  stepped  to  the  other  end  of  the  counter  to 
ti-ade  with  some  more  profitable  customers.  The 
knives  suited  me  to  a  T.  Here  was  a  moment  of 
as  severe  temptation,  probably,  as  I  ever  had  in  my 
whole  life.  Now,  there  is  no  sin  in  being  tempted, 
for  our  Saviour  himself  was  tempted.  But  the  ini- 
(juity  lies  in  yielding  to  the  temptation ;  which,  un- 
fortunately, was  the  case  with  your  flaxen-haired 
author.  It  was  all  done  in  a  moment.  The  devil 
(I  suppose  we  have  a  right  to  charge  him  with  such 
things)  said,  "  Fob  it."  My  pockets  were  all  marked 
"  M.  T.,"  [empty.]  Instead  of  reflecting  whether 
che  All-seeing  Eye  was  upon  me,  I  cast  an  eye 
around  to  the  merchant  who  was  busy  with  his 
customers.    The  knife  was  fobbed,  and  I  sneaked 


2U  THIALS  AND  TlUl  M1>US  IN  THE 

out  of  doors.  0  !  how  I  remember  that  day,  tliough 
nearly  forty  years  have  since  rolled  away.  But, 
alas !  it  was  a  dear  knife  to  me.  It  haunted  me 
like  the  knife  of  King  Macbeth,  with  which  he  cut 
the  throat  of  Duncan,  which  ever  after  the  bloody 
deed,  while  the  ghost  of  Duncan  with  the  throat  cut 
from  ear  to  ear  appeared  to  harrow  u^)  his  imagina- 
tion, hung  over  the  head  of  the  guilty  king  dripping 
with  the  blood  of  his  victim.  0  !  what  would  I  not 
have  given,  soon  after  I  left  the  store,  to  have  had 
that  knife  safely  in  its  pack  lying  upon  the  mer- 
chant's shelf,  and  my  conscience  relieved  from  the 
sting  of  guilt !  although  no  mortal  man  under  the 
heavens  knew  it  but  myself.  And  the  very  name 
of  New-Hartford  would  bring  a  guilty  blush  upon 
my  cheek.  Here  I  might  spin  out  many  ^lages  in 
portraying  the  remorse  I  felt  until  time  and  business 
lulled  memory  to  sleep.  O  !  my  dear  little  flaxen- 
haiied  readers,  I  tell  this  incident  for  your  benefit, 
that  if  you  should  be  tempted  in  a  like  manner,  you 
should  at  once  remember  the  knife  at  New-Hartford. 
In  such  a  temjHation,  ask  God  to  give  you  help  to 
resist,  and  always  remember  that  honesty  is  the  best 
policy. 

"  Whene'er  temptation  lingers  nigh, 
Remember  God's  all-seeing  eye." 

I  fain  would  give  this  some  other  name  than 
theft,  but  there  is  none  other  that  suits  it  so  well. 
This  through  grace  divine  has  ever  proved  an 
effectual  preventive  to  the  repetition  of  any  such 


I.IFK  OK  t;.  \V.  IIKNIIV. 


•21 


mean  and  dislionoiirable  act.  Tliis  was  done  wliile 
the  conscience  was  as  tender  as  the  apple  of  the  eye. 
Had  I  pursued  this  wicked  coui-se,  I  might  soon 
have  stolen  a  hoi-se  with  less  compunctions,  and  per- 
haps ended  my  days  in  prison.  So  much  for  the 
penknife. 

Secondly,  in  regard  to  gambling,  blacklegging, 
and  its  cure.  I  think  I  was  about  fourteen  years 
old,  when  I  was  sent  out  for  the  first  time  on  busi- 
ness, with  a  span  of  horses  and  sleigh  to  Taberg  Fur- 
nace, in  Oneida  County,  about  thirty-six  miles  distant, 
to  procure  some  hardware,  and  do  some  other  busi- 
ness. I  was  supplied  with  quite  a  sufficiency  of 
money  to  bear  my  own  expenses,  as  well  as  those 
of  the  team;  and  I  was  sure  if  I  performed  the 
business  well,  and  got  safe  home,  I  should  not  be 
iusked  any  questions  about  the  surplus  money  that 
might  be  left  after  paying  the  ex|)enses  of  the  trip. 
Here  I  commenced  my  first  lesson  of  rigid  economy, 
which,  had  I  carried  out  through  life  with  my  usual 
industry,  I  should  probably,  at  this  time,  have  a 
house  to  cover  me  from  the  pelting  storm,  without 
hiring  it ;  and  my  flour-barrel  and  meat-cask  would 
not  sound  so  empty  as  they  now  do.  But  I  thank 
God  that  these  have  been  like  the  meal-tub  and 
cruse  of  the  widow,  that  entertained  the  prophet 
Elijah :  they  have  kept  about  so  full.  But  to  re- 
turn to  my  story.  When  I  got  readv  to  start  out 
on  my  journey,  I  managed  to  get  hay  and  oats 
enough  to  feed  my  horses,  and  pork  and  beans 


22 


T1(1AI,S  AXU  TRILMI'HS  TN  THK 


enough  to  feed  myself.  I  made  the  trip  all  in  good 
order,  and  returned  back  as  far  as  the  village  of 
AVhitesboro',  the  last  place  I  was  to  feed  at  till  I 
should  get  home ;  and  in  looking  over  my  finances, 
I  could  say,  like  Gen.  Jackson  in  one  of  his  mes- 
sages, I  was  at  peace  with  all  the  world  and  out  of 
debt,  with  two  dollars  and  a  half  in  my  pocket. 
Although  I  have  had  not  less  than  half  a  million  of 
dollars  pa.ss  through  my  hands  since  that  time,  yet 
1  think  I  never  before  or  afterwards  felt  so  rich  or 
important  in  my  own  estimation,  as  I  did  that 
morning. 

The  speculations  that  ran  through  my  head  were 
numerous,  and,  as  I  supposed,  important.  I  thought 
to  make  some  purchases,  as  I  should  pass  through 
Utica.  But  I  knew  I  had  money  enough  to  buy 
out  all  the  boys  for  a  mile  round  me  when  I  reached 
home,  and  the  way  I  intended  to  shake  it  at  them 
\\  as  a  caution.  O,  what  a  tyrant  money  makes  of  a 
man  !  But  after  feeding  my  horses  under  the  shed 
for  the  last  baiting,  I  took  my  bucket  of  pork  and 
beans  in  one  hand,  and  my  whip  in  the  other,  snap- 
ping it  at  every  dog  or  fowl  that  came  in  my  way. 
I  entered  the  bar-room  of  the  tavern  in  full  state, 
asking  no  favours  of  anybody ;  and,  as  I  think, 
before  I  opened  my  box  of  luncheon,  I  very  grace- 
fully put  my  hand  into  my  pocket,  and  drew  forth 
my  pocket-book,  and  took  out  my  money  with  some 
little  flourish,  and  asked  the  landlord  if  it  was  cur- 
rent, taking  care  that  all  the  gentleman -loafers  in  the 


l.IFK  OK  (;.  \V.  HKNUV. 


bar-room  shouUl  see  it.  It  being  pronounced  good, 
I  returned  it  to  my  pocket,  bought  a  glass  of  cidci-, 
and  went  to  eating  my  luncheon.  O,  how  little  T 
imagined  that  riches  had  ^^^ugs,  and  that  the  wings 
of  all  my  earthly  tr»>asnres  were  already  beginning 
to  expand  for  flight  I  But  the  whole  machinery  for 
my  bankruptcy  was  then  in  the  bar-room.  Before 
I  had  got  my  cider  half  drank,  there  arose  a  great 
lazy,  bloated,  puffing  porpoise,  who  was  on  the  jail 
limits,  and  he'drew  forth  a  pack  of  cards,  and  went 
to  the  knowing  bar-tender  while  he  stood  within  the 
bar,  shuffled  his  cards,  and  laid  them  down  on  the 
counter.  At  this  time  I  was  very  ignorant  of  that 
l)eautiful  science  called  the  Black  Art,  pertbrmed 
with  cards.  I  merely  knew  one  card  from  another. 
The  cards  being  "  cut,"  the  loafer  offered  to  l)et  one 
shilling,  that  after  the  bar-tender  had  "shuffled  "  the 
pack  to  suit  himself,  and  also  cut  the  pack,  he  (the 
loafer)  would  take  the  part  cut  off,  and  turn  his 
back  and  examine  them,  and  then  that  some  speci- 
fied card  of  the  remaining  part  of  the  deck  would  be 
first  turned  face  up.  I  left  my  breakfast  to  gaze  on  the 
new  and  interesting  traiisaction.  To  ray  astonish- 
ment, the  gamester  would  turn  up  the  very  card  he 
named,  and  take  off  the  bar-tender's  shilling ;  but 
the  bar-tender  continued  to  bpt  till  the  third  or  fourth 
time,  and  while  the  gambler  had  the  part  cut  of^",  he 
went  as  usual  to  the  back  part  of  the  room,  with  his 
back  turned  towards  the  remaining  cards.  The  bar- 
tender thon  shuffled  the  cards  as  }>y  magic,  and 


■-'4  riilAI.S  AND   IKtl  MI'llS  1\  THK 

]ilaeed  them  back  in  their  position  again.  "  Now," 
says  he  to  the  loafer,  "I'll  bet  you  two  dollars." 
"  Done,"  says  the  loafer.  "  Now,"  says  the  bar- 
teiuler,  "  we  have  him  ;"  winking  to  me  to  put  down 
my  money.  It  was  no  quicker  winked  than  done ; 
my  two  dollars  and  a  half  were  all  down,  and  the  bet 
confirmed.  O  what  golden  visions  flitted  across  my 
imagination !  Instead  of  two  dollars  and  a  half,  I 
should  take  home  with  me  five  dollars  in  triumph  ! 
"  Now,"  inquired  the  loafer,  "  is  all  ready  ?  is  the 
money  all  down  ?"  To  which  we  emphatically  re- 
plied, "  Yes."  He  then  shuffled  his  cards  again  witli 
more  than  ordinary  accuracy,  while  every  minute 
seemed  an  liour  to  my  fingers,  itching  to  claw  the 
five  dollars !  He  then  cried  out,  "  I'll  bet  that  the  Jack 
of  Clubs  w  ill  be  trump,"  and  immediately  returned  to 
the  deck ;  and  as  he  turned  over  the  uppermost  card, 
there  was  presented  that  frightful  and  never-to-be- 
forgotten  Jack  of  Clubs  I  while,  at  the  same  time, 
the  magician  loafer  hauled  off  all  my  money,  with 
all  my  golden  dreams  and  hopes  of  present  and  fu- 
ture happiness  and  aristocratic  power,  and  vanished 
from  my  sight. 

There  are  very  few  men  who  have  met  with  more 
reverses  of  fortune  than  I  have ;  but  I  think,  put 
them  all  together,  they  would  not  be  so  heart-rend- 
ing and  sickening  as  this  transaction  was  to  me. 
When  I  learned  that  the  bar-tender  and  loafer  were 
co-partners  in  this  swindling  operation,  God  knows 
how  cordially  I  have  hated  cards  and  every  species 


I.IKK  OF  li.  \V.  IlKMtV. 


oC  black-legging  ever  since,  with  ii  perfect  hatrftl. 
The  admonition  of  the  old  Irish  woman  to  lier  son, 
when  on  the  gallows,  would  have  applied  to  my  case 
at  this  lime.  She  says  to  her  boy  while  dangling  at 
the  rope's  end  :  "Dear  Jemmy,  you  will  remember 
when  you  had  your  father's  watch  in  your  pocket, 
and  money  to  pay  for  your  edification,  how  many  a 
time  your  old  mither  tould  you  to  gang  into  dacent 
company,  but  you  would  not  mind  her.  You  see 
now  where  you  are,  you  do,  and  I  hope  it  may  be 
a  warning  to  ye."  This  event  was  ever  "  a  warning" 
to  me,  and  a  cheap  cure  for  such  kind  of  specula- 
tions, for  I  presume,  exposed  as  much  as  I  have 
been  through  life  to  such  kind  of  company,  I  have 
never  gambled  to  the  amoimt  of  ten  dollars  in  my 
life.  1  could  never  forget  that  fatal  "  Jack  of 
Clubs." 

Alas !  what  ruin  and  misery  have  resulted  from 
the  wcked  practice  of  gambling.  As  the  wily 
spider  spreads  out  its  silken  web,  and  ensnares  the 
silly  fly,  so  the  cunning  gambler  enfolds  within  his 
artful  net  the  innocent  and  unwary,  and  without 
remorse  devours  the  victim  of  his  craft. 

The  next  vice,  in  the  before-mentioned  category, 
to  which  I  became  early  addicted,  and  of  which  I 
shall  also  relate  the  cure,  is  tobacco-chewing.  This 
vicious  habit,  so  prevalent,  if  not  absolutely  an  im- 
morality, is  at  least  so  indecent,  and  in  most  cases 
injurious  to  health,  that  it  ought  to  be  scouted  from 
civilized  society. 


iiiiAi.si  AMI  mil  Mi'lis  IN  Tiii; 

I  think  it  was  in  tlie  seventeenth  summer  of  my 
age,  that  I  was  labouring  on  a  farm  for  a  Mr.  Camp- 
bell, of  Winfield,  in  this  county.  He  had  a  ste)>- 
son  living  with  him  by  the  name  of  William  Stew- 
art. We  had  occasionally  strolled  into  some  of  the 
\  illage  taverns,  where  we  discovered  many  young 
men  so  far  in  advance  of  us  in  the  accomplishments 
of  the  day,  that  we  were,  in  our  own  esteem,  most 
wondrous  green  country  fellows.  The  young  village 
gents  could  chew  tobacco,  puff  the  cigar,  drink  rum, 
and  swear  according  to  the  most  approved  terms  of 
blackguards.  We  discovered  that  something  must 
be  done  to  make  us  appear  more  like  gentlemen,  to 
give  us  a  smack  of  refinement.  We  therefore  bought 
a  threepenny  paper  of  tobacco,  resolved  to  try  the 
graces  of  chewing,  and  began  by  degrees  to  educate 
the  palate  to  the  use  of  the  nauseous  drug.  As  the 
dose  was,  by  degrees,  increased,  the  palate  began  to 
relish  the  taste,  until  about  the  fourth  day,  when,  as 
I  was  laying  a  stone  fence  in  a  warm  summer  day, 
and  William  was  ploughing  on  the  hill  above  me, 
having  the  tobacco,  I  left  my  work  and  went  up  to 
him,  and  said  I :  "  Bill,  I'll  bet  I  can  take  a  larger 
chew  of  tobacco  than  you  can."  He  "doubted  it;" 
so  I  ran  my  fingers  into  the  paper,  and  took  out  a 
lianl  quid  about  as  large  as  a  hickory  nut ;  William 
took  out  what  he  contended  was  equal  or  more.  I 
went  my  way  imitating,  as  far  as  possible,  the  graces 
of  an  old  tobaeco-chewer,  flattering  myself  that  I 
liad  now  acquired  the  accomplishments  of  the  art. 


LIFE  OF  (i.  W.  IIENRV. 


But  my  feelings  soon  underwent  a  grievous  ciiange. 
A  death-like  sickness  soon  came  over  me,  followed 
by  a  cold  damp  sweat  and  dizziness.  Never  was  I 
in  such  misery.  I  paced  the  meadow  for  hours.  I 
could  neither  die  nor  live,  till  I  found  some  relief. 
But  I  was  effectually  cured  of  my  hankering  to 
adopt  that  vile  practice,  and  of  ray  admiration  for 
its  votaries,  fl'om  that  time  hitherto.  So  these  three 
cents  were  well  laid  out.  How  thankful  I  am  that 
now,  in  my  blindness,  I  am  not  a  slave  to  a  habit  so 
opposed  to  cleanliness,  so  offensive  in  the  family 
circle  and  in  society,  so  pernicious  to  health,  such  a 
tax  upon  a  poor  man's  purse,  to  the  use  of  a  filthy 
nauseous  drug  so  unbefitting  any  purpose  under  the 

heavens,  save  the  purpose  of  killing   on  ]x>or 

calves  in  the  spring  of  the  year  I    Surely  : 

"  Tobacco  is  an  Indian  weed, 

And  from  the  devil  doth  proceed  ; 

It  picks  j-our  pockets,  burns  your  clothes, 

And  makes  a  chimney  of  your  nose."' 

Youth  is  the  most  dangerous  period  of  life,  for  the 
formation  of  such  pernicious  habits.  The  habits 
then  formed,  perhaps  from  an  idle  curiosit)',  maybe 
from  a  disposition  to  ape  the  example  of  others,  it 
matters  not  from  what  cause,  are  very  likely  to  become 
confirmed,  and  accompany  an  individual  through 
life,  and,  if  they  be  evil,  to  subject  him  to  all  the 
inconx  eniences  and  misery  which  they  are  fitted  to 
bestow.  And  at  this  period  of  life  there  is  generally 
found  an  anxious  desire  at  once  to  be  thought  a  man, 


28 


TRIALS  AND  TRU  MPIIS  IX  TIIF. 


and  an  almost  uncontrollable  disposition  to  do  ahout 
as  one  has  a  mind  to.  And  the  seeds  of  ultimate 
ruin  and  wretchedness  are  generally  sown  with  the 
first  vicious  habits,  and  they  readily  spring  up,  and 
unless  speedily  extirpated,  take  deep  root  in  the  fer- 
tile soil  of  the  youthful  heart.  Their  fruit  is  only 
I'uin.  Think  of  this,  my  3'oung  readers  and  old. 
"  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not  the  unclean 
thing."  Resolve  to  be  free  from  the  slavery  of  habit, 
— a  slavery  more  absolute,  when  you  are  once  fully 
under  its  dominion,  than  any  other.  And  remem- 
ber, that  in  the  simple  matter  of  dollars  and  cents, 
(which  is  but  a  mere  fraction  of  the  evil,)  your 
threepenny  paper  of  tobacco  per  day  (by  no  means 
extravagant,  in  the  opinion  of  an  old  tobacco-chewer) 
will  be  a  tax  upon  you,  in  forty  years,  of  nearly 
$500!  which  is  worse  than  thrown  into  the  fire. 
Think  of  these  things,  my  friends,  and  be  w\se. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  phrenologist  has  said  that  I  was  a  veiy  great 
"  lady's  man."  By  this,  I  suppose,  is  meant  a  man 
fond  of  the  society  of  the  ladies,  ready  to  bestow  his 
gallant  attentions  upon  the  fair,  and,  it  may  be, 
occasionally  touched  with  a  tender  inspiration  of 
Cupid.  If  this  is  the  proper  meaning  of  the  ex- 
pounder of  bumps,  I  have  not  a  word  to  say  in  con- 


UFJi  Of  U.  W.  UKNKV. 


29 


tradiction  of  his  position,  but  shall  leave  the  gentle 
reader  to  judge  whether  he  has  done  me  justice  or 
not,  after  giving  a  few  adventures  bearing  upon 
this  point.  The  society  of  w^orthy  young  ladies  had 
always  a  multitude  of  charms  for  me ;  and  as  for 
the  tender  passion,  I  agree  with  Hudibras,  that — 

"  Love  is  a  fire  that  burns  and  sparkles 
In  man,  as  naturally  as  in  charcoals." 

At  least  it  always  seemed  so  to  me.  My  ear  was 
always  awake  to  the  "discourse  of  sweet  music," 
and  in  the  matter  of  dancing,  from  early  boyhood, 
my  feet  would  almost  involuntarily  join  in  the 
chorus  of  the  violin,  and  respond  Avith  nimble  antics 
to  its  bewitching  tones.  The  fiddle,  the  bewitching 
fiddle  !  No  sable  son  of  Africa  was  ever  more  in- 
spired by  "  the  harmony  of  sweet  sounds,"  flowing 
from  fiddle-strings,  or  ever  wore  out  more  shoe- 
leather  in  responding  to  its  notes  than  I.  Music, 
dancing,  and  the  ladies,  were  three  ideas  that  were 
closely  associated  in  making  up  my  notions  of  en- 
joyment. With  spirits  buoyant  as  air,  and  keyed 
on  a  high  note,  full  of  hope  and  animation,  I  was 
never  troubled  with  what  is  sometimes  called  "  the 
blue  devils."  My  opportunities  for  gratifying  my 
notions  of  enjoyment  have  corresponded  to  my  dis- 
position ;  and  here  I  might  oi>en  a  rare  scene  of  ad- 
ventures and  amusements,  such  as  couiiships,  flirta- 
tions, meetings,  partings,  frolickings,  &c.,  which  I 
was  at  the  time  deeply  interested  in,  no  doubt,  but 


30  TKIALS  AND  THUMl'Hh  IN  TIIK 

which  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  narrate.  Such 
\ain  delusions  must  give  place  to  more  substantial 
and  profitable  things.  I  will,  however,  mention 
some  few  of  these  adventures  of  early  life,  or  the 
l)icture  would  be  quite  imperfect. 

I  was  many  times  honoured  with  being  associated 
on  lists  of  managers  of  assembhes  and  convivial 
parties,  with  some  of  the  most  noble-spirited  youths 
of  the  land,  and  many  of  them  my  dear  and  inti- 
mate associates.  I  regret  that  I  have  not  preserved 
each  card.  What  an  army  of  youthful  comrades, 
as  well  as  those  of  riper  years,  would  they  recall  to 
memory ;  and  then  to  inquire  where  they  now  are, 
what  has  been  their  fortune  and  ultimate  fate  ?  I 
have  no  doubt  that  one-half  of  them  would  be  found 
among  the  pale  nations  of  the  dead ;  many  having 
made  shipwreck  of  fortune;  and  0!  how  many, 
alas !  may  have  filled  the  drunkard's  grave !  Once 
endowed  with  talents,  literary  acquirements,  quali- 
fied to  fill  posts  of  honour  and  responsibility  in  so- 
ciety, the  children  of  jirosjierity  and  hope,  but,  ah ! 
they  have  fallen  !    How  sad  the  reflection  1 

But  I  will  give  the  youthful  reader  an  account  of 
my  first  attempt  at  courtship,  and  of  the  first  ball  I 
ever  attended,  hoping  lie  will  excuse  me  from  treat- 
ing further  of  my  own  follies  on  these  two  points. 
1  treat  of  these  two  incidents  together  for  the  reason 
that  they  were  so  nearly  associated  throughout  the 
whole  farcical  transaction.  At  the  time  I  was  about 
seventeen  yeare  old,  it  was  fashionable  and  highly 


I.II  K  OF  li.  \V.  llh.SKV. 


ol 


cointnendablo  tor  young  men  of  that  age,  and  from 
thence  upwards,  to  "go  a  sparking,"  as  the  term 
then  was ;  but  I  believe  that  in  this  more  enlight- 
ened and  refined  day  it  is  called  "  going  a  court- 
ing ;"  but  I  prefer  the  old-fashioned  expression,  from 
the  associations  wliich  it  recalls.  And  now,  as  I  am 
to  jjresent  you  but  one  case  only,  I  will  be  more 
particular  in  telling  you  how  they  used  to  do  up 
such  things  about  thirty  years  ago,  and  leave  it 
with  the  more  modem  beaux  and  belles  to  compare 
it  with  the  present  mode. 

There  were  two  distinct  classes  or  societies  in 
those  days,  who  used  to  meet  in  separate  assemblies ; 
the  younger  of  which  was  denominated  the  "  trun- 
dle-bed company."  After  a  young  lady  or  gentle- 
man had  graduated  in  the  "  trundle-bed  company," 
and  attained  a  suitable  age  and  degree  of  accom- 
plishment, he  or  she  was  duly  initiated  into  the 
higher  or  older  rank ;  which  being  done,  they  were 
supposed  to  be  qualified  to  propose  and  entertain 
the  gravest  propositions ;  and  in  the  case  of  a  young 
lady,  she  was  now  considered  an  eligible  candidate, 
and  was  at  all  times  subject  to  the  following  deeply 
interesting  interrogation  from  the  enterprising  young 
beau  : — "  Miss  Dulcinea,  shall  I  be  favoured  with 
the  pleasure  of  your  company  next  Sunday  night  V 
This  question  was  usually  put  with  a  sufficient  de- 
gree of  palpitation  of  the  heart  to  give  the  whole 
aflair  a  smack  of  sentiment ;  and  in  those  days  the 
gentle  creature  properly  appreciated  the  agitation  of 


32 


TKIALS  AND  TRICMI'HS  IN  THE 


the  young  swain,  and  responded  to  his  interroga- 
tory in  a  manner  fitted  to  quiet  his  fluttering  heart. 
But  from  the  great  number  of  lone  bachelors  we 
have  among  us  at  the  jiresent  day,  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  the  times  must  have  somewhat  changed 
in  this  particular.  But,  as  I  was  going  to  say,  a 
young  lady  who  had  emerged  from  the  "  trundle- 
bedders,"  and  who  had  not  a  light  in  her  parlour, 
sitting-room,  or  kitchen,  as  the  case  might  be,  till 
almost  day,  as  often  as  one  Sunday  night  out  of 
three  or  four,  was  considered  rather  below  par,  and 
her  case  in  the  important  matter  of  matrimony  was 
thought  to  be  rather  dubious. 

But  to  my  first  adventure  in  this  business — a 
hazardous  enterprise  j^ou  may  be  sure.  And  I  will 
be  bound  that  of  all  the  gra\  e  undertakings  of  my 
life,  I  never  entered  upon  one  with  a  more  doubting 
and  faint  heart ;  tor  I  would  have  my  kind  reader 
know,  that  for  a  young  gentleman  to  "get  the 
mitten  "  in  those  times  was  more  humiliating  than 
it  would  be  for  a  young  lieutenant  to  sufter  a  defeat 
in  his  first  engagement:  in  fact  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  war  and  courtship  are  not  altogether  dis- 
similar in  this  particular.  In  both  a  man  needs  a 
valiant  lieart  and  an  ingenious  tact.  I  was  to  try 
my  fortune  for  the  first  time,  and  had  but  just  taken 
leave  of  my  trundle-bed  companions,  and  a  failure 
just  then  would  make  me  feel  I  O,  you  may  goiess 
how ! 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  18 17, 1  was  cutting  corn- 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIENRV. 


33 


stalks  witli  Scliuyler  Smith,  a  very  respectable 
j'Oiing  man,  and  an  intiinate  of  mine.  There 
were  two  youno^  ladies  of  our  acquaintance,  who, 
like  ourselves,  hnd  but  just  emerged  from  the  "trun- 
dle-bed company,"  one  by  the  name  of  Alice  , 

and  the  other  Charlotte  .    Now,  the  girls 

were  of  the  first  respectability,  but  Charlotte  was 
considered  rather  the  most  engaging  of  the  two,  and, 
in  fact,  about  the  finest  girl  in  the  town.  Schuyler 
and  I,  while  cutting  stalks,  resolved  to  be  men, 
"  break  the  ice,"  and  put  the  before-mentioned  ques- 
tion to  these  two  young  ladies,  right  in  their  face  and 
eyes,  the  next  Sunday  night.  But  we  could  not 
agree  who  should  go  to  see  Charlotte,  the  favourite, 
each  coveting  the  glory  that  would  be  shed  around 
him  if  he  should  be  successful.  We  each  trembled 
at  the  thought  of  "  the  mitten."  Finding  that  we 
were  not  likely  to  agree  otlierwise,  we  hit  upon  the 
expedient  of  drawing  cuts.  Accordingly  two  slips 
from  a  corn-stalk  were  prepared  of  unequal  length, 
and  tlie  one  that  should  draw  the  longest  should  go 
to  see  Charlotte ;  and,  as  fortune  would  have  it,  the 
lot  fell  on  me.  What  a  moment  of  hojie  and  fear, 
of  anxiety  and  doubt!  But  hope  predominated. 
It  was  as  my  sheet-anchor  in  the  corn-field,  and  by 
it  I  nerved  up  every  fibre,  and  resolved  firmly  to 
proceed  Avith  the  trial  the  next  Sunday  night.  The 
auspicious  night  approached,  and  ere  the  sun  had 
shed  its  last  lingering  rays  upon  the  western  hills, 
while  yet  its  silver  tints  cast  a  glow  of  mellow  beauty 
•■i 


y4  TKIALS  AND  TltlUMl'HS  IN  THK 

upon  the  clouds  overhanging  the  horizon,  inspiring 
the  young  beholder  Avith  a  tender  sentiment  and 
subduing  the  tumult  of  his  passions,  Schuyler  and 
myself  wei'O  mounted  on  our  nags,  their  heads  turned 
towards  our  promised  land.  The  young  ladies  lived 
on  the  same  road,  and  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
apart.  We  soon  arrived  at  the  dwelling  of  the  fair 
Alice.  Schuyler  dismounted,  and  I  proceeded  on 
my  way  silently,  with  a  palpitating  heart,  half  hop- 
ing, half  doubting,  but  fully  resolved,  and  descended 
into  a  deep  and  somewhat  romantic  valley,  where 
dwelt  the  lovely  Charlotte,  the  object  of  my  enter- 
prise, who  had  it  in  her  power,  by  pronoimcing  one 
short  monosyllable  of  two  letters,  to  chill  the  very 
blood  in  my  veins,  blight  my  budding  hopes,  and 
stifle  the  rising  gallantry  within  me  1 

As  I  proceeded  down  the  steep  descent  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  gulf,  where  stood  a  very  high 
hill  covered  with  trees  and  shrubbery,  I  saw,  or  im- 
agined I  saw,  a  brilliant  something  that  to  me 
seemed  a  trailing  comet,  pass  along  the  brow  of  that 
hill.  This  I  thought  ominous,  and  my  sentimental 
pendulum  greatly  increased  its  vibrations.  But  I 
remembered  the  old  maxim,  "  A  faint  heart  never 
won  a  fair  lady,"  and  girded  up  my  courage.  I 
soon  found  myself  seated  in  the  family  circle  of 

Deacon  .    The  greatest  lion  that  now  lay 

in  my  way,  (as  I  often  found  afterwards  under  simi- 
lar circumstances,)  was  the  old  guardian  mother. 
But  I  was  not  there  long  before,  as  a  sailor  would 


LIFE  or  U.  \Y.  HENUy. 


35 


say,  I  "  hauled  alongside  "  of  the  beloved  Charlotte, 
and,  with  all  the  solemn  gravity  of  an  owl,  delivered 
the  momentous  message,  which  I  had  been  brood- 
ing over  and  arranging  for  the  week  past.  In 
almost  breathless  silence  I  awaited  her  reply.  She 
wjis  an  intelligent,  and,  withal,  a  most  kind-hearted 
girl,  of  about  fifteen.  She  said  she  woidd  ask  her 
elder  sister.  Accordingly  there  was  a  family-caucus 
held  in  the  other  room  to  consult  over  my  fate. 
Reader,  imagine  yourself  standing  on  the  gallows, 
with  the  fatal  noose  already  about  j^our  neck,  amidst 
a  gazing  multitude,  faintly  expecting  and  ardently 
hoping  for  the  governor's  timely  reprieve,  before  you 
should  be  left  to  dance  in  the  air ;  imagine  what 
would  be  your  feelings,  kind  reader,  in  such  a  case, 
and  you  will  understand  something  how  I  felt  just 
then.  But  as  I  watched  the  movements  of  the 
caucus  closely  I  discovered  that  mattere  began  to 
look  favourable.  One  of  the  boys  was  ordered  to 
make  a  fire  in  the  front-room.  Soon  Charlotte  ap- 
peared, and  invited  me  to  draw  my  loose  coat. 
How  willingly  I  complied  with  the  invitation  it  will 
not  be  difficult  for  a  young  beau  to  imagine.  She 
bore  it  away  with  my  hat  and  whip  to  the  aforesaid 
front-room,  now  about  to  be  warmed  up  for  the 
liappiest  man  in  the  world ;  and  the  heart  that  ten 
minutes  before  Avas  in  a  huge  commotion,  like  "  a 
tempest  in  a  tea-pot,"  was  now  calm  as  a  May 
morning,  and  full  of  joy. 

Now  the  mere  matter  of  having  a  few  houi-s  of 


36  TRIALS  AND  TRIVMl'HS  IN  THE 

"  small  talk,"  although  exceedingly  agreeable,  was 
but  a  tiifle  compared  with  the  glory  that  awaited 
the  successful  issue  of  this  bold  undertaking.  Glory 
is  to  an  ambitious  man  what  meat  is  to  a  hungry 
one.  There  was  probably  not  another  young  ver- 
dant in  town  who  would  dare  make  so  bold  a  move 
in  his  first  enterprise  in  the  great  business  of  spark- 
ing. The  object  Avas  high,  and  nothing  but  a  dar- 
ing spirit  would  run  the  risk.  However,  I  soon 
found  myself  a  near  neighbour  to  Miss  Charlotte, 
where  I  continued  for  the  rest  of  the  evening,  des- 
canting upon  the  numberless  topics  which  are 
usually  so  fully  canvassed  on  such  occasions.  The 
rest  of  the  family  were  quietly  snoozing  on  their 
pillows,  and  revelling  in  the  land  of  dreams.  Never 
was  a  man  better  pleased  with  his  success,  and  I 
fain  had  made  myself  believe  that  the  young  lady 
was  scarcely  less  flattered  with  the  attention  of  so 
spruce  a  beau.  The  time  was  passing  away  in  the 
most  cozy  manner,  and  scarcely  heeded  in  our 
little  conference,  when  lo !  our  old  friend  chanticleer 
announced  the  approach  of  morn  and  the  hour  to 
depart !  This  was  the  approved  signal  at  that  day 
for  breaking  up  such  conferences,  or,  as  it  is  said  in 
legislative  bodies,  for  "  the  committee  to  rise  and 
report  progi'ess."  Therefore,  in  compliance  with  the 
rule,  (for  you  must  know  that  a  young  adventurer 
of  my  age  would  be  very  careful  not  to  violate  a  rule 
of  etiquette  so  generally  received  among  his  seniors,) 
I  resumed  my  coat,  hat,  and  whip,  with  the  express 


LIFE  OF  (!.  W.  IIENRV. 


37 


understanding  that  I  was  to  come  again  in  threo 
weeks.  To  prevent  waking  the  old  folks  I  went  on 
tip-toe  to  the  door,  where  we  exchanged,  as  softly 
and  sweetly  as  possible,  a  gentle  "good-night." 
Now  it  had  puzzled  me  not  a  little  during  the  even- 
ing how  this  aftair  should  get  publicity,  while  I 
should  attempt  to  deny  it  as  a  matter  of  delicacy. 
But  I  was  relieved  from  this  quandary  as  soon  as  I 
got  to  where  my  horse  had  been  hitched.  He  had 
slipped  his  halter  and  escaped  for  liome,  and  thrown 
oft"  his  saddle  on  the  way.  So  I  had  to  follow  on 
after  him  on  foot.  It  was  now  about  the  break  of 
day,  and  I  arrived  home  about  sunrise,  where  I 
found  the  horse,  which  had  been  picked  up  by  a 
neighbour.  And  by  the  time  I  found  the  saddle,  or 
about  breakfast  time,  the  whole  matter  had  received 
an  extensive  circulation,  so  that  every  one  I  met  had 
something  to  say  on  the  subject,  and  my  fame  was 
established.  Now,  as  an  excuse  for  taking  Sabbath 
evenings  for  such  business,  we  plead  the  law  of  cus- 
tom, which,  I  presume,  was  established  by  the  first 
settlers  of  this  country  from  the  New-England  States, 
a  part  of  whose  religious  creed  it  was  to  keep  hal- 
lowed Saturday,  instead  of  Sunday  night — the  re- 
verse of  which  now  prevails ;  though  I  am  sorry  to  say 
that  neither  of  them  is  sufficiently  hallowed  at  this 
day.  Here  must  end  the  history  of  my  courtehip, 
unless  I  may  liereafter  give  a  sketch  of  that  which 
resulted  in  my  marriage  with  her  who  has  since 
ever  been  my  comforter  in  affliction,  and  is  now  the 


38 


TRIALS  AXI)  TRIIMI'IIS  IN  THE 


light  to  my  blind  eyes.  I  might  recount  a  great 
number  and  variety  of  similar  enterprises  that  tran- 
spired for  the  twenty  years  that  intervened  between 
these  two  events.  It  shall  suffice  on  this  point  to 
say,  that  I  have  no  recollection  of  ever  being  denied 
the  company  of  a  respectable  young  lady ;  nor  did 
I  ever  desire  or  propose  to  marry  any  one  but  her 
■whom  I  am  now  blessed  with.  And  I  honestly  be- 
lieve that  my  attachment  for  the  society  of  ladies 
has  been  a  very  great  preventive  to  my  falling  into 
vice,  and  perhaps  into  a  drunkard's  grave,  on  which 
last  idea  I  shall  touch  more  at  large  when  I  come 
to  treat  on  the  subject  of  intemperance. 

Next,  according  to  promise,  I  must  tell  you  some- 
thing of  the  first  ball  I  attended. 

I  think  this  was  in  the  winter  previous  to  the 
aftair  I  liave  just  related.  There  was  a  ball  got  up 
at  Grain's  tavern  in  Litclifield.    I  resolved  to  go. 

I  accordingly  invited  Miss  Julia  ,  as  my 

partner.  The  evening  arrived  for  the  ball.  I  had 
my  step-father's  horse  and  a  cutter  he  had  just  got 
made,  at  that  day  the  top  of  the  mode.  At  the  ap- 
pointed hour  there  was  gathered  a  company  of 
about  thirty  couple,  with  bounding  hearts  and  rosy 
cheeks.  Each  fair  young  lady  was  neatly  clad  in  a 
woollen  dress  of  her  own  spinning,  and  nicely  dressed 
and  pressed  by  the  clothier.  Nature  displayed  its 
handiwork  of  symmetry  in  their  beautiful  persons, 
which  had  never  been  subjected  to  the  contortions 
of  modern  fashions.    When  bonnets,  shawls,  coats, 


LIFE  OK  a.  W.  IIENRV.  :U) 

and  hats  were  laid  aside,  each  laddie  took  his  lassie 
and  inarched  in  regular  procession  in  rear  of  the 
fiddler  into  the  old  ball-room.  Then  came  on  a 
long  round  of  "  country  dances,"  wherein  all  danced 
till  da3'light,  as  though  they  were  afraid  they  should 
not  get  the  worth  of  their  money.  But  daylight 
unwelcomely  broke  up  the  amusement,  and  each 
fellow,  and  I  with  the  rest,  took  home  his  girl.  I 
got  home  about  sunrise,  laid  off  my  best  clothes, 
and  went  to  turning  fanning-mill  in  cleaning  up 
wheat  all  that  day  for  my  step-father.  I  recollect 
that  while  turning  the  fanning-mill  there,  I  would 
get  almost  asleep.  And  while  in  this  state  of  de- 
lirium or  somnambulism,  I  could  hear,  or  imagined  I 
heard,  every  tune  of  the  fiddle  distinctly  played  by 
the  iron  cog-s,  while  I  was  going  up  and  down  in 
the  middle  and  casting  off  right  and  left.  But 
sleep  and  rest  restored  my  bewildered  mind.  I 
would  here  remark,  that,  in  my  opinion,  social  in- 
tercourse among  young  people  has  been  on  a  de- 
cline from  that  day  to  tliis.  Humble  merit  was 
then  in  high  estimation ;  and  the  young  lady  that 
hung  up  the  largest  bunch  of  yarn  of  her  own 
spinning,  was  numbered  among  the  first  belles  of 
the  day,  and  received  merited  attention  from  the 
beaux.  There  was  very  little  of  envying  or  back- 
biting, or  pride  as  to  who  should  heir  the  most 
property  after  the  father  was  dead.  I  have  wit- 
nessed in  these  later  days  a  dirty  aristocracy  grow- 
ing up  among  the  American  people,  young  as  well 


40 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


as  old — an  aristocracy  that  despises  labour  and  real 
merit,  and  reveres  only  wealth.  This  is  much  more 
tlie  case  at  the  South  than  at  the  Noith,  and  I  am 
sorry  to  say  that  it  is  often  to  be  found  amongst 
professors  of  religion. 

Reader,  while  I  have  been  narrating  these  frolics 
of  my  youth,  I  have  felt  a  great  degi-ee  of  solemnity. 
The  young  ladies  and  young  gentlemen  that  whirled 
with  me  in  the  giddy  dance,  where  are  they  now 
while  I  am  recounting  these  follies  ?  Many  of  them 
are  numbered  with  the  dead,  and  amongst  the  num- 
ber that  young  lady  I.  waited  on  that  night.  Such 
follies  ai'e  a  waste  of  precious  time,  if  nothing  worse. 
I  cannot  say,  as  some  have  said,  that  there  was  no 
pleasure  in  these  amusements.  But  it  was  but  nio- 
mentar}'.  Where  there  was  an  ounce  of  pleasure 
there  soon  followed  a  pound  of  pain,  as  is  generally 
the  case  when  we  yield  to  the  dominion  of  feeling 
instead  of  reason.  Moses  was  wise  when  he  chose 
"rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God, 
than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Before  entering  upon  an  account  of  my  business 
transactions,  that  none  of  the  striking  features  may 
be  wanting  in  the  picture,  I  will  give  somewhat  of 
my  military  careei',  for  it  will  be  observed  that  I 


LIFE  OF  li.  W.  HENKY. 


41 


have  "  seen  some  sernco "  on  the  "  field  of  glory," 
where  men  display  their  patriotism  in  defending 
their  country  against  an  imaginary  foe,  and  where 
they  can  show  forth  their  valour  and  military  skill 
in  defeating  an  enemy  of  straw.  Here  I  secured 
golden  trophies  of  renown,  and  received  an  official 
title  that  would  give  me  rank  with  the  master  of  an 
old  scow-boat  on  the  Erie  Canal.  But  glory  is  glory, 
and  the  man  that  has  a  smack  of  war  in  his  compo- 
sition will  wax  valiant  at  a  militia  company  train- 
ing, though  the  clangour  of  death  sound  not  in  his 
ear;  and  perhaps  the  absence  of  danger  adds  not  a 
little  to  the  heroism  of  the  titled  sons  of  Mai-s  in 
"  these  piping  times  of  peace."  Not  to  derogate  at 
all  from  the  "  glory  "  (such  as  it  is)  attendant  uj^wn 
the  profession  of  arms,  I  may  be  allowed  to  remark, 
that,  in  my  humble  opinion,  the  militia  system  of 
our  country,  as  at  present  constituted  and  displayed 
on  days  of  public  muster  and  parade,  is  a  very  great 
nuisance,  and  scarcely  less  inglorious  to  our  country 
than  to  the  oflicers  distinguished  by  its  titles,  and 
to  the  "  high-privates"  subject  to  its  (want  of)  dis- 
cipline. It  ought  to  be  abolished,  or  thoroughly  re- 
vised. It  has  doubtless  much  degenerated  since  the 
days  of  my  martial  honours.  But  I  must  not  de- 
tain my  kind  reader  with  further  reflections  on  this 
subject.  Let  us  hope  that  the  day  will  soon  come 
when  the  sword  shall  bo  beaten  into  pruning 
hooks. 

About  the  year  1822,  Daniel  Dygert,  G.  V. 


42  IIUALS  AND  TIUL  MIMIS  IN  THE 

Orton,  of  Winfield,  Herkimer  County,  and  my- 
self, with  permission  of  the  coraniandcr-in-chief, 
raised  a  volunteer  company  of  about  one  liundred 
men,  for  the  27th  regiment  of  infantry.  They  were 
a  band  of  noble  young  men — well-made,  spirited, 
and  as  ambitious  fellows  as  ever  shouldered  a  musket 
iu  time  of  peace.  I  had  ever  felt  from  my  boyhood 
a  martial  spirit — I  felt  the  soldier  within  me,  and 
panted  for  renown : 

"  I 'd  heard  of  battles,  and  loiig'd  to  follow 
To  the  field  some  warlike  lord." 

And  even  now,  after  having  laid  all  carnal  weap- 
ons aside,  the  sound  of  the  spirit-stining  drum  and 
animating  fife,  the  roar  of  the  booming  cannon,  and 
the  clangour  of  arms,  at  once  rouses  those  sleeping 
energies  and  inspires  a  thirst  for  war.  But  notwith- 
standing what  the  phrenologist  has  said  of  my  so 
very  great  courage,  had  I  been  called  upon  to  face 
a  real  foe  where  blood  Avas  likely  to  be  spilt,  it  is 
quite  possible  I 

"  Had  run,  forgetful  of  a  warrior's  fame, 

While  clouds  of  friendly  dust  conceal'd  my  shame." 

Yet,  during  the  three  years  I  bore  the  command  of 
tliat  company — the  largest  and  best  equipped  I  think 
of  any  I  have  ever  seen  in  the  country — I  drank  in 
more  vainglory  than  in  all  the  rest  of  my  life. 
Among.st  all  the  faults  and  foibles  of  my  life  I  do 
not  know  that  I  was  ever  charged  with  being  haughty 
or  scornful  by  the  poorest  or  humblest  person  living. 


LIFE  OF  (;.  W.  IIEN'RV. 


43 


Nevertheless,  wlien  that  company  was  brought  into 
a  line  b}-  the  subordinate  ofEcei-s,  with  the  signal  to 
the  captain  that  all  was  ready,  the  whole  body  as  a 
single  man  presenting  their  glittering  arms,  their 
t^iU  white  plumes  waving  in  the  air,  and  the  music 
brought  to  the  centre,  Louis  Philippe  might  have 
envied  me  my  glory  as  I  advanced  to  my  post 
amidst  three  cheering  salutes  from  the  pealing 
drums  and  fifes,  while  the  ensign  measured  the  time 
by  three  graceful  waves  of  the  star-spangled  banner 
of  my  country,  and,  as  I  replaced  with  a  military  air 
my  tinseled  and  richlj^-plumed  chapeau  on  my 
youthful  head,  while  my  right  hand  clasped  and 
drew  fi-om  its  silver-plated  scabbard  the  sword  that 
hung  by  my  side,  then  did  my  heart  swell  with  a 
most  military  pride.  I  bellowed  out  the  Avord  of 
command  loud  enough  to  be  heard  throughout  the 
ranks  of  Bonaparte's  army :  "  Attention,  the  whole ! 
Shoulder  arms !"  &c.,  and  thus  the  vastly  scientific 
evolutions  of  the  field  were  performed  with  the  ut- 
most "pomj)  and  circumstance  of  war." 

Reader,  I  recount  these  particulars  of  my  history 
that  you  may  witness  how  great  a  fool  empty  titles 
will  make  of  a  man.  If  you  could  but  know  how 
many  hard  day's  labour,  and  how  much  money  it 
cost  me  to  support  the  cause,  and  "treat"  my  men, 
you  would  certainly  think  that  I  must  have  been  a 
very  great  military  fool.  And  all  I  received  for  my 
trouble  and  fatigue  was  to  be  dubbed  Captain 
Henry,  as  far  as  I  was  known  :  a  title  that  has  ac- 


44  TKIALS  AND  TRUMPHS  IN  THE 

companied  me  ever  since,  like  the  mark  set  upon 
Cain.  I  fain  would  rid  myself  of  this  inglorious 
distinction,  but  I  am  not  allowed  to  descend  from 
this  "  bad  eminence." 

It  was  customary  in  those  times  to  "wake  up  the 
officers  "  on  the  morning  of  parade  days.  Accord- 
ingly, long  before  day  till  the  time  for  mustering, 
there  was  an  almost  continual  roaring  of  musketry 
under  the  officers'  windows.  The  first  gun  was  a 
signal  for  the  captain  to  throw  open  his  doors,  well 
stocked  with  rum,  brandy,  gin,  sugar,  &c.  These 
bad  customs,  I  am  hajjpy  to  say,  are  now  nearly  done 
away  with.  The  first  time  I  ever  got  corned  was 
on  one  of  these  dangerous  occasions,  which  cost  me 
a  severe  admonition  and  nearly  spoiled  a  valuable 
suit  of  clothes  for  me.  I  got  to  knocking  off  hats 
with  one  of  my  comrades,  which  ended  in  throwing 
each  other's  hats  into  a  dirty  mill-pond — into  which 
I  plunged  for  mine,  (having  just  enough  in  my  head 
to  make  me  feel  a  little  amphibious  just  then,)  re- 
gardless of  clothes  or  consequences.  Here  was  a 
beautiful  spectacle,  worthy  of  the  decorum  and  glory 
of  a  modern  militia  parade !  AVhat  a  proud  ex- 
hibition for  full-grown  men !  My  young  friends, 
despise  such  foolery ;  respect  yourselves,  and  resolve 
to  be  men. 

And  now,  with  my  patient  reader's  permission, 
I  will  enter  upon  some  of  my  business  transactions, 
with  their  beginning  and  ending — transactions  vari- 
ous, many  of  them  important,  most  of  them  dis- 


LIFE  OF  G.  W,  HENRY. 


45 


astrous.  And  this  I  do,  not  that  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
me  to  review  the  many  sad  mistakes  of  my  life,  but 
that  you  may  learn  how  many  sore  disappointments 
an  ambitious  and  enterprising  man  subjects  himself 
to,  in  the  short  period  of  twenty  years,  and  that 
you  may  learn  wisdom  from  my  experience.  I 
would  gladly  draw  a  veil  over  many  transactions  of 
my  life,  could  I  but  exclude  them  from  memory; 
but  they  are  indelibly  recorded  there,  and  the 
follies  of  the  past  may  well  serve  as  way-marks 
for  the  future.  It  will  not  be  expected  that  I 
shall  speak  of  eveiy  trifling  business,  but  of  only 
such  as  were  of  some  importance  and  characteristic 
of  the  man. 

And  now  here  goes  for  my  first  business  engage- 
ment, which  was  with  Eliphalet  Remington,  Jr., 
of  Litchfield,  in  the  spring  of  1819,  to  bum 
twelve  thousand  bushels  of  coal,  in  what  was  called 
Slocum's  Gulf.  It  was  a  wild,  desolate  region, 
cheered  at  the  solemn  hour  of  night  only  by  the 
hooting  of  owls  and  screamings  of  wild  animals. 
Here  I  made  my  fii-st  adventure,  full  of  hope  and 
promise  of  success,  in  connexion  with  three  other 
young  men,  Hibbard  Pride,  Ansel  Owen,  and  Charles 
Randall.  Not  one  of  us  knew  much,  if  anything, 
about  the  business.  Nevertheless,  we  swung  our 
axes,  entered  the  forest,  and  erected  a  collier's  cabin. 
But  before  we  had  felled  many  trees,  Charles  and  I 
seceded  from  the  other  two,  formed  a  gang  by  our- 
selves, and  built  us  a  sepai-ate  cabin.    We  worked 


4(i  TUIALS  AKD  THIUMPHb  IN  THE 

like  slaves  almost  night  and  day ;  lived  like  hermits, 
black  as  negi'oes,  and  dirty  as  pigs.  We  rolled  up  our 
pits,  covered,  and  burned  them  down;  but  being 
unacquainted  with  the  business,  I  pi-esume  we  burned 
up  a  large  portion  of  the  coal.  Instead  of  our  pit 
yielding  six  thousand  bushels  of  coal  as  we  had 
calculated  it  would,  we  received  but  half  that  quantity. 
All  the  rest  soon  got  tired  of  the  job  and  left  it 
but  myself ;  I  hung  out  alone  until  it  was  finished. 
But  to  make  a  long  story  short,  I  will  tell  you  how 
this  job  ended — not  in  a  blaze  of  glory,  as  General 
Jackson  ended  the  last  American  war,  but  in  a 
blaze  of  coal-brands.  I  had  gathered  together 
coal  brands  enough  to  make  five  hundred  bushels 
of  coal,  and  had  set  them  up  preparatory  to  cover- 
ing them  for  burning.  I  finished  this  labour  late 
at  night,  and  crawled  solitary  and  alone  into  my 
rude  cabin,  and  was  soon  deliciously  snoring  upon 
iny  straw-couch  in  sweet  concert  with  the  hooting 
owl  and  other  like  vocalists  of  the  night.  About 
midnight  I  awoke,  and  found  my  coal  brands  nicely 
blazing  to  the  tops  of  the  trees,  and  casting  forth  a 
glare  of  light  which  was  seen  by  the  inhabitants 
of  the  surrounding  country.  I  had  the  unenviable 
pi'ivilege  of  walking  in  the  brilliant  light  of  my  own 
labour,  black  as  a  bear  and  twice  as  ragged,  my  old 
lopped  hat  on  my  head  which  I  had  sometimes  worn 
for  a  night-cap.  What  a  beauty  I  must  have  been 
to  look  upon! — my  face  looking  as  dejected,  no 
doubt,  as  my  old  hat.    I  just  about  got  my  labour 


LIFK  UF  G.  W.  IIENUV. 


47 


for  my  pains.  What  an  encouraging  beginning  in 
my  business  life  !    So  much  for  my  first  contract. 

You  recollect  the  phrenologist  said  that  I  thought 
I  could  do  almost  anything  that  anybody  could, 
and  would  never  take  advice.  Whether  these  are 
profitable  traits  in  the  character  of  a  business-man 
may  be  questional.  But  one  thing  I  have  learned 
to  be  true,  that  if  a  man  believes  he  can  do  a  thing, 
and  takes  hold  and  tries  with  all  his  might,  he  is 
very  apt  to  accomplish  it.  But  when  a  man  doubts 
his  ability  he  seldom  brings  much  to  pass.  "Faith 
is  mighty  to  the  jjulling  down  of  strongholds"  in 
temporal,  as  well  as  in  spiritual  things.  In  regard  to 
myself,  I  can  with  truth  say,  that  of  business  engage- 
ments to  the  amount  of  some  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars  worth  of  work  or  more,  which  I  have  done 
in  the  course  of  my  life,  I  have  no  recollection  of 
undertaking  a  single  job  of  any  moment  but  what 
I  finished ;  though  in  some  instances  it  might  liave 
been  better  to  abandon  them.  I  was  a  stranger  to 
backing  out;  and  having  formed  this  character  as 
a  contractor  I  could  get  almost  any  quantity  of  work 
I  asked  for.  Here  was  my  great  mistake — I  asked 
for  too  much  at  a  time. 

But  to  return  to  what  may  be  regarded  as  the 
sequel  to  my  first  job.  The  following  winter  after 
my  coaling  operation,  I  was  employed  by  the  Frank- 
fort Furnace  Company,  to  attend  top,  as  it  was  called, 
to  that  furnace.  My  business  was  to  throw  in 
alternately,  tlie  coal  and  ore  near  the  top  of  the 


48 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


stack,  wherein  the  iron  was  smelted.  Raking  over 
the  coal  and  handling  the  ore,  gave  me  a  good  rich 
Spanish-brown  colour.  The  labour,  half  the  day 
and  half  the  night,  Avas  slavish.  My  friend  Schuyler 
attended  at  the  same  time  as  fireman  at  the  foot 
of  the  stack.  We  were  paid  off  in  the  spring  with 
furnace-ware — a  sort  of  coon-skin  cun-ency. 

This  kind  of  life  I  concluded  was  not  the  sort  for 
ine  or  any  other  social  being — for  the  peremptory 
demands  of  a  perpetual  burning  furnace,  imprisoned 
me  Avithin  its  walls,  while  I  was  permitted  only  to 
dream  of  former  scenes  of  enjoyment  as  I  might  lay 
snoozing  in  the  embrace  of  Moi-pheus,  within  the 
beautiful  folds  of  a  coal-basket.  It  was  not  good 
for  Adam  to  be  alone  in  Eden :  how  much  more 
doleful  it  was  for  me  in  that  forlorn  condition,  I  will 
leave  it  for  my  readers  to  judge.  I  often  felt  like 
exclaiming,  in  the  language  of  the  lone  inhabitant 
of  the  desolate  island  : — 

"  Society,  friendship  and  love, 

Divinely  bestow'd  upon  man, 
0  !  had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove, 

How  soon  I  would  taste  you  again  !" 

Accordingly  I  cast  about  me  for  a  more  congenial 
employment.  The  idea  of  working  by  the  month, 
under  the  control  of  another,  was  quite  unadapted 
to  my  constitution.  If  I  was  not  permitted  to  say 
to  one,  "  Come,  and  he  cometh,  and  to  another,  Go, 
and  he  goeth,"  I  was  not  satisfied.  I  never  learned 
a  trade  in  my  life,  excepting  the  one  I  have  learaed 


LIFE  OF  (;.  W.  UENUV. 


49 


since  I  have  become  blind;  and  of  this  I  shall 
speak  in  its  proper  place.  The  reader  will  recollect 
what  our  worthy  phrenologist  has  said  of  my 
self-confidence,  my  mechanical  genius,  my  capacity 
to  invent  and  contrive  the  ways  and  means  just 
suited  to  a  new  or  difficult  purpose,  &c.,  and  what 
a  wonderful  man  I  might  be  for  engineering, 
and  all  that.  We  shall  see  how  theory  and  fact 
correspond. 

In  my  search  for  a  job,  I  fell  in  with  a  farmer 
who  wanted  some  stone-fence  made ;  and  to  his  in- 
quiry whether  I  could  lay  stone-wall,  I  answered 
him  that  I  could,  at  the  same  time  believing  what 
I  said.  The  bargain  was  at  once  concluded ;  and, 
at  the  appointed  time,  I  came  on  clad  in  my  leather 
apron,  and  fully  equipped  to  undertake  my  job,  al- 
though I  had  never  laid  a  rod  of  wall  in  my  life.  I 
apologized  occasionally,  after  having  stretched  my 
line  and  begun  to  lay  the  foundation,  for  my 
awkwardness,  which  I  feared  might  be  discovered 
by  the  farmer.  I  told  him  I  did  not  expect  I  should 
lay  tlie  first  rod  so  very  well,  in  consequence  of  my 
hands  having  been  out  of  that  kind  of  employment 
so  long.  He  very  charitably  fell  in  with  the  sug- 
gestion. He  was  a  kind-hearted,  good-natured  old 
man,  and  I  knew  a  little  better  than  he  did,  that  ho 
had  a  very  pretty  daughter  of  about  the  age  of 
gentle  seventeen,  that  might  possibly  throw  a  young 
man  of  my  sensibility  into  "  a  tender  taking."  But 
to  say  nothing  more  about  that  now,  the  first  rod 
+ 


50  TRIALS  AND  IRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

of  wall  was  soon  up,  and  the  old  man  pronounced 
it  tolerably  fair;  and  before  the  sun  went  down,  1 
was  an  accomplished  wall-layer.  I  finished  the  job 
with  neatness  and  dispatch  ;  and  my  fame  soon 
wont  abroad  as  a  tip-top  wall-layer.  Thus  my  char- 
acter was  I'eadily  established,  and  I  spent  most  of 
that  season  in  laying  stone-walls. 

Now,  I  hold  that  wo  can  rightly  estimate  the 
blessings  of  society  and  other  enjoyments,  temporal 
as  well  as  siiiritual,  only  as  we  are  deprived  of  them  ; 
and  that  pleasure  comes  by  contrast :  thus  it  was 
that  I  could  not  but  compare  the  life  I  was  then 
enjoyhifi,  with  that  which  I  had  been  enduring  as  a 
collier,  and  as  a  furnace  man;  and  how  sensibly 
Mas  I  daily  impressed  with  my  happier  condition, 
when  the  good  old  lady  sounded  her  conch-shell  for 
dinner,  which  was  generally  composed  in  those  days 
of  a  large  Indian  pudding  boiled  in  a  bag  made  for 
the  purjwse,  or  in  a  stocking-leg,  correspondmg  in 
size  to  the  size  of  the  family  that  was  to  be  the 
happy  partakers  of  the  wholesome  repast.  It  is 
quite  possible  that  the  squeamish  noses  of  these 
more  eft'eminatc  times  would  be  turned  up  at  so 
homely  an  idea.  But  you  must  know,  dear  reader, 
that  those  Avere  the  days  of  frugal  simplicity  and 
economy.  After  a  stocking  had  warmed  a  foot 
during  a  cold  winter,  and  now  at  length  had  allowed 
the  heel  and  toes  to  peep  out  at  the  windows,  what 
business  is  it  to  you  or  me,  my  friend,  if  the  good 
matron  should  think  proper  to  cut  oif  the  foot,  and 


J.IFK  OF  G.  W.  IIENUV. 


51 


tie  a  hank  of  thrums  around  the  bottom,  after 
having  washed  it  clean,  and  then  to  make  a  deHcions 
pudding  in  it  ?  What  is  it  to  us,  whetlier  the  okl  man, 
tlie  old  woman,  or  the  pretty  daughter  had  worn 
that  stocking,  provided  the  pudding  be  good  and 
enough  of  it?  Prejudice  often  spoils  some  people's 
dinners ;  and  some  people  are  more  squeamish  about 
an  idea,  a  whim,  a  mere  phantasm  of  a  too  sensi- 
tive, but  (often)  senseless  brain,  than  about  a  real, 
substantial,  tangible  choker,  whereat  a  proper  sensi- 
bility might  well  revolt.  Are  we  not  told  in  the 
good  book  to  eat  whatsoever  is  set  before  us  ?  When 
the  aforesaid  pudding  was  snugly  tied  at  both  ends, 
it  was  soused  into  a  large  dinner-pot,  and  then  boiled 
with  pork,  potatoes,  and  other  vegetables,  until  all 
was  thoroughly  cooked ;  and  when  the  hungry  la- 
bourers were  summoned  from  tlie  field  by  the  wel- 
come blast  of  the  loud-sounding  conch,  they  were 
seated  down  to  the  above-mentioned  luxuries,  neatly 
arranged  on  two  large  bright  pewter  platters,  which 
had  passed  down  through  many  generations.  The 
young  children  were  furnished  with  wooden  trench- 
ers, and  occupied  their  proper  places.  Here  was  a 
lovely  scene — here  was  liealth  and  good  appetite — 
here  were  robust  men,  and  buxom  women — and 
here  we  realized  the  words  of  the  wise  man,  that 
"  food  as  well  as  rest  is  sweet  to  the  labouring  man.'M 
When  the  dinner  was  over,  instead  of  being  hurried 
away  into  the  old  coal-house,  we  retired  into  an  ad- 
joining room,  or.  perhaps,  to  a  well-swept  bam  floor, 


52  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

there  to  enjoy  our  "noon  spell"  in  listening  to  the 
nnisic  of  an  old-fashioned  instrument  played  by  the 
fair  hand  of  the  fanner's  daughter ;  and  many  times 
the  neighbouring  girls  would  bring  in  their  musical 
instruments  and  join  in  sweet  concert,  while  mellif- 
luent voices,  base  and  treble,  filled  the  rich  measures  of 
the  choir.  How  sad  that  such  music  is  no  longer  heard 
— that  that  old  instrument,  the  delight  of  our  grand- 
mothers, is  now  almost  obsolete,  and  its  very  name 
is  numbered  among  the  things  that  were ;  an  instru- 
ment that,  while  it  delighted  the  ear  of  the  farmer 
with  its  merry  buzz,  imparted  a  glow  of  freshness 
and  healthful  beauty  to  the  cheek  of  his  blithesome 
daughter.  If  any  of  my  younger  readers  are  at  a 
loss  to  know  what  musical  instrument  I  refer  to, 
they  can  inquire  of  their  grandmother,  and  she  will 
give  them  a  full  account  of  it. 

But  before  closing  this  chapter,  allow  me  to  im- 
part some  instruction,  drawn  from  the  small  portion 
of  my  experience  in  business  already  introduced. 
In  the  first  place,  I  would  say  to  the  young  man 
who  is  poor  and  just  starting  out  into  the  world,  that 
this  jobbing-about  business  is  not,  in  the  long  run, 
the  most  profitable.  You  may  get  larger  wages 
while  at  work ;  but,  then,  there  are  your  rainy  days 
to  be  deducted,  and  your  loss  of  time  from  one  job 
to  another;  and  then  your  expenses  in  travelling 
about  from  pillar  to  post  in  search  of  j)rofitable  jobs, 
will  just  about  use  up  all  you  make,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  irregular  and  unsteady  habits  they  thus 


LIFK  OF  U.  W.  HENRY. 


53 


establish.  It  is  the  continued  dropping  that  wears 
away  the  stone,  and  not  the  torrent  or  the  flood, 
whose  force  is  soon  spent.  Accordingly,  the  man 
that  works  for  small  wages,  but  keeps  steadily  at 
work,  and  frugally  husbands  what  he  earns,  will  at 
all  times  have  a  competency  ;  and,  in  the  end,  have 
a  stock  of  comforts  laid  up  for  a  rainy  day,  and  for 
a  good  old  age :  not  so  with  him  Avho  experiments 
on  fortune,  and  expects  to  get  rich  at  a  single  throw 
of  the  die.  Fortune  is  a  fickle  coquette,  and  after 
wheedling  her  votaries  for  a  while,  is  very  apt  to  jilt 
them  at  the  last.  Her  lavish  favours  are  sometimes 
but  the  precursors  of  her  withering  frowns — her 
smiles  often  conceal  her  victim's  fate.  But  diligent 
industry,  patient  labour,  humble  merit,  and  honest 
integrity,  need  only  look  for  Heaven's  blessings,  and 
the  end  is  sure.  The  kind  of  business  is  not  so  ma- 
terial, if  it  be  but  reputable  and  innocent ;  but  it  is 
all-important  that  it  be  a  steady  business.  Pride 
too  often  controls  young  men  in  the  selection  of  an 
employment,  and  fickleness  the  execution  of  it.  The 
former  bankrupts  thousands — the  latter  makes  va- 
grants of  many ;  thus  the  world  is  full  of  proud  beg- 
gars and  enterprising  vagabonds.  Idleness,  indo- 
lence, pride,  and  prodigality,  all  belong  to  one  family, 
and  are  generally  the  companions  of  irregular  habits. 
How  many  young  men  spend  their  summers  in  la-* 
hour,  and  their  winters  in  frolicking ;  toil  hard  from 
spring  to  autumn,  for  the  benefit  of  the  tailor,  the 
tavern-keeper,  and  the  fiddler,  from  autumn  to 


54 


TKIALS  AND  TlUUMl'HS  IX  THE 


spring;  and  in  the  spring  they  start  out  again,  poor 
as  cluirch  mice,  to  mend  their  fortunes,  and  to  pre- 
pare for  the  follies  of  the  succeeding  winter:  and 
thus  youth  is  spent  in  preparing  poverty  and  sorrows 
for  old  age,  unless  a  premature  death  in  mercy  ends 
the  scene.  These  too  often  see  their  erroi-s  when 
too  late,  if  they  ever  allow  themselves  to  see  them 
at  all :  the  iron  sway  of  habit  makes  them  willing 
slaves.  Remember  these  things,  my  friends,  and 
beware  ;  and  forget  not  the  words  of  the  wise  man, 
that  *'  the  hand  of  the  diligent  shall  bear  rule ;  but 
the  slothful  shall  be  under  tribute."  Let  us  here 
end  this  cliapter,  and  rest  for  a  moment. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  next  spring,  which,  according  to  my  best 
recollection,  was  in  1821,  I  hired  myself  to  a  Mr. 
Morgan,  an  old  gentleman  in  Columbia,  to  work  on 
a  farm  six  months,  and  was  to  take  for  my  pay  a 
beautiful  and  spirited  young  mare,  and  ten  dollars 
in  money ;  which  engagement  I  faithfully  performed. 
It  was  discovered  by  some  of  the  neighbours  that 
she  could  run  fixst ;  and  soon  there  was  a  bet  thrown 
out  by  an  antagonist  for  a  trial  of  speed.  This  bet  I 
refused ;  but  it  was  taken  by  some  of  my  neighbours, 
to  whom  I  lent  the  mare.  She  gallantly  won  the 
race.    But  T  had  been  cffoctnally  cured  of  the 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HUXKV. 


55 


least  disposition  for  blackiegging  of  wliatever  species, 
and  every  kind  of  gambling,  by  jny  first  lesson  at 
Whitesboro',  the  expense  of  which  you  have  already 
learned ;  and  amidst  the  various  and  tempting 
opportunities  with  which  I  have  been  beset,  (and  I 
have  been  at  the  Long-Island  Course  when  the 
Nortli  and  South  were  contending  for  every  inch  of 
ground,)  I  could  seldom,  if  ever,  be  induced  to  bet. 
llappy  was  it  for  me  that  I  had  learned  my  salutary 
lesson  so  early.  My  fleet  mare  I  soon  exchanged 
for  another,  more  steady,  and  better  fitted  for  the 
purpose  of  peddling,  into  which  business  I  entered 
the  following  autumn,  and  of  which  I  now  proceed 
to  give  you  some  account. 

I  hired  to  a  Mr.  David  Kelsey,  of  Winfield,  for 
the  term  of  one  year,  to  peddle  tin  and  other  wares, 
for  the  sum  of  twelve  dollars  a  month,  besides  my 
expenses.  He  had  several  other  men  employed  in 
that  business.  Here  was  a  wide  and  extensive  field, 
where  my  spirit  for  projecting  and  enterprise  could 
have  full  scope.  Here  I  anticipated,  as  I  afterwards 
realized,  a  world  of  novelties  and  rare  sports.  .Jovial 
and  fearless  of  heart,  I  mounted  my  waggon,  laden 
with  the  commodities  of  trade,  to  usher  out  into  the 
wide  world,  (wherein  it  is  said  a  pedler  can  never 
go  amiss,)  to  enrich  my  employer,  and  "  see  the 
world."  My  dear  readers,  you  will,  I  am  certain, 
have  pity  on  me,  and  not  ask  me  to  tell  you  of  all 
the  scrapes  I  got  into  and  out  of  again,  with  more  or 
less  success,  during  this  year  in  which  I  was  a  sort 


56 


TRIALS  AND  TKIUMPUS  IN  THE 


of  cosmopolite ;  for  if  you  knew  how  foolish  these 
things  now  look  to  me,  and  how  it  pains  me  to  re- 
\iew  the  follies  of  a  misspent  life,  I  am  sure  you 
would  let  me  olf  with  one  or  two  adventures,  as  a 
sample  of  many. 

Ill  the  new  business  I  had  now  embarked  in,  one 
important  study  of  mine  was,  to  adapt  myself  to  the 
company  I  might  chance  to  be  in,  and  make  myself 
as  agreeable  as  possible,  and  to  feel  myself  perfectly 
at  home  in  a  cabin  or  a  castle,  a  pig-pen  or  a  pal- 
ace— wherever  fortune  might  direct,  or  inclination 
lead — always  bearing  in  mind  that  my  business  was 
to  trade.  Very  likely  there  may  be  numerous  anec- 
dotes afloat,  which  rumour,  with  her  trumpet-tongue, 
may  have  spread  as  applicable  to  me,  but  which 
may  belong  to  another ;  which,  however,  I  shall  not 
take  the  trouble  to  acknowledge  or  deny.  For  ex- 
ample, it  has  been  said  that  I  used  to  exchange  new 
tin  for  old,  and  get  the  full  price  of  the  new  to  boot ; 
and  that  after  I  got  out  of  sight,  I  would  throw  the 
old  tin  away.  I  suspect  such  stories  will  always  bo 
told  of  pedlers,  with  more  or  less  truth.  You  must 
know  that  pedlers  have  to  become  all  things  to  all 
men,  (and  some  women,)  in  order  to  trade,  and  they 
have  to  show  the  world,  as  the  notable  Sam  Patch 
would  say,  that  some  things  can  be  done  as  well  as 
others.  But  let  us  open  up  one  of  the  scenes  in  a 
pedler's  life. 

He  drives  up  to  a  liouse  and  alights — anticipates 
the  wants  of  the  inmates — gathers  up  his  arms  full 


LIFK  OF  G.  W.  HKNUr. 


57 


of  various  articles — enters  the  lioiise,  and  without 
many  preliminaries,  proposes  to  sell ;  then  runs 
through  with  a  long  catalogue  of  articles  with  all 
the  flippancy  of  a  pedler's  elocution,  embracing 
every  article  of  his  assortment — a  yarn  in  most  cases 
quite  sufficient  to  bewilder  the  brain  and  confound 
the  arithmetic  of  the  good  housewife,  and  which  not 
unfrcquently  triumphs  over  the  long  established 
rules  of  economy  of  the  house.  Nine  times  out  of 
ten  they  will  at  once  demur  to  the  proposition,  and 
protest  that  they  have  no  money.  This  being,  as  a 
matter  of  politeness,  conceded  b}'^  the  travelling  mer- 
chant, his  next  move  is  to  "  plough  with  the  heifer," 
as  Sampson  would  have  expressed  it,  to  find  out  what 
ai  ticle  they  needed  and  would  buy,  provided  they 
had  anything  to  pay  with.  This  being  ascertained, 
and  being  satisfied  there  is  no  money  in  the  house, 
(at  least  that  he  can  get,)  lie  then  recites  a  cata- 
logue of  things  he  would  take  for  pay,  such  as  tallow, 
butter,  cheese,  wax,  brass,  pewter,  flax,  rags,  &c.,  &c. 
At  this  juncture  of  the  case,  it  becomes  necessary 
to  bring  into  requisition  that  expedient  so  often  re- 
sorted to  by  lawyers,  but  oftener  by  pedlers,  to  wit, 
impudence,  the  sine  qua  non  in  difficult  cases.  He 
runs  his  nose  into  the  buttery,  and  maybe  explores 
the  house  through  from  cellar  to  garret  in  quest  of 
some  of  the  above  named  articles;  which  being 
found,  he  presents  to  the  good  lady  the  article  she 
wanted,  at  the  same  time  expatiating  upon  its  excel- 
lencies  and   modestly    reminding   the  excellent 


58 


TKIALS  AND  TRIUMl'IIS  IN  THE 


matron  of  her  promise  to  buy  if  she  had  anything 
to  pay>  with,  and  intimating  that  she  cannot  do 
otlierwise  than  choose  between  a  purchase  and  a  fib. 
Here  she  is  fairly  caught,  and  to  get  rid  of  the  pest, 
is  constrained  to  make  the  purchase.  The  gallant 
pedler  then  gathers  up  his  commodities,  stores  them 
into  his  wagon,  cracks  his  whip,  chuckles  over  his 
success,  and  soon  finds  himself  at  another  dwelling. 
Here  he  enters  with  his  arms  full  of  merchandise, 
and  with  his  blandest  address,  recites  his  well-learned 
lesson  with  the  gentlest  inodulation  and  intonations 
of  voice,  observing  all  the  stops  and  marks,  the  ex- 
clamatory and  interrogatory  points  especially ;  and 
very  likely  the  father  or  mother  of  the  household 
answers  his  proposal  to  trade  with  the  very  common 
reply  that  "  we  have  nothing  to  buy  with,  unless 
you  will  take  one  of  our  girls  for  pay."  "Agreed," 
says  the  pedlei-,  at  the  same  time  reaching  out  the 
hand  or  half-bent  arm  to  encircle  the  precious  com- 
modity which  the  mother  had  offered  in  barter  for 
the  coffee-pot,  skimmer,  or  other  needful,  with  a 
make-believe  to  bear  her  oft'  to  the  wagon  to  stow 
her  in  with  the  flax,  rags,  &c.  Here  would  fbllo>v 
a  scuftle,  delightfully  )-idiculous,  and  the  agreeable 
pedler  in  ten  minutes  finds  himself  an  old  acquaint- 
ance in  the  midst  of  his  friends,  who  now  trade  with 
him,  a  mere  matter  of  fiiendship.  Now,  dear  reader, 
let  us  pause,  and  moralize  for  a  moment  over  this 
scene  of  folly  and  traflic,  and  see  if  there  is  a  mighty 
difference  between  mothei-s  and  pediers. 


UFE  OF  G.  W.  HENKY. 


59 


It  is  truly  said  that  all  the  world  is  a  stage,  and 
each  individual  has  his  or  her  part  to  act  upon  it. 
JIach  has  some  particular  object  in  view,  in  wliat 
ho  acts.  Two  farmers  go  into  market  to  tradf: 
one  has  butter,  and  the  other  eggs.  He  that  has 
the  butter  for  sale  has  all  his  attention  occupied  in 
getting  rid  of  it  to  the  best  advantage ;  and  it  is  a 
matter  of  indifference  to  him  whether  his  neighbour 
gets  drunk,  falls  down  and  breaks  his  eggs,  or 
whether  he  gets  the  money  for  them ;  and  equally 
indift'eront  is  the  man  with  eggs  of  the  success  of 
liim  with  butter — each  one  looks  out  for  himself. 
So  it  is  with  the  mother  and  the  pedler.  Each  has 
a  commodity  in  market :  the  mother,  a  daughter ; 
the  pedler,  tin-Avare — each  intent  on  a  speedy  sale 
and  good  price.  From  infancy  to  girlhood,  and 
thence  to  womanhood,  the  lovely  daughter  has  been 
the  object  of  maternal  tenderness,  indulgence,  and 
pride.  Each  opening  charm  has  caught  the  mo- 
ther's eye ;  each  spark  of  sprightly  intelligence  has 
swelled  her  heart  with  joy;  the  full  development 
of  maiden  beauty  and  loveliness  has  moved  the 
mothers  pride,  and  inspired  her  with  hopes  of  a 
ready  market  and  a  good  j)rice  at  the  hymeneal 
stall.  Now  that  the  daughter  is  ready  to  "  set  out," 
as  the  phrase  is  at  the  Soutli,  how  carefully  does 
the  mother  invest  her  with  every  winning  grace  of 
innocent  art,  and  instruct  her  in  all  the  gentle 
mysteries  of  conquest,  at  the  same  time  that  she 
uses  all  of  a  fond  mother's  assiduity  in  guarding 


60  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

her  tender  one  against  the  wiles  and  dangers  that 
beset  her,  impressing  on  her  young  mind  the  im- 
portant truth,  that  female  character  once  marred, 
like  a  broken  looking-glass,  can  never  be  repaired : 
the  object  is  a  quick  and  profitable  market.  The 
pedler  arranges  and  classes  his  articles  with  equal 
care,  to  attract  attention  and  induce  a  purchase. 
His  object,  too,  is  money — as  much  of  it  as  possible. 
If  that  is  not  to  be  had  he  proposes  to  barter  for 
the  next  best  article  he  can  think  of — he  is  bound 
to  trade,  at  any  rate,  even  though  he  have  to  take 
tow,  rags  or  rubbish.  Is  it  not  something  so  with 
the  mother  2  A  suitor  proffers  his  hand  to  the  fair 
daughter:  what  is  the  first  question  asked  by  the 
interested  family,  but.  How  many  dollars  or  how 
many  acres  has  he  ?  If  he  happens  to  be  rich, 
whether  by  fraud  or  fortune,  whether  by  merit  or 
demerit,  (no  question  is  often  asked  on  this  score,) 
is  she  not  at  once  advised  to  fall  in  with  the  offer, 
and  then  do  not  the  parents  and  neighbours  all 
unite  in  the  opinion  that  she  is  well  disposed  of, 
and  that,  too,  without  a  single  inquiry  whether  he 
is  pious  or  even  moral  ?  It  is  well  known  that  in 
these  cases  an  abundance  of  money  hides  a  multitude 
of  defects  from  the  eyes  of  lovers,  and  fi-om  the  eyes 
of  parents  and  friends,  but  not  from  the  eyes  of  the 
All-seeing.  But  the  mother,  (in  concert  with  the 
daughter,)  like  the  pedler,  if  she  cannot  sell  for 
money,  will  barter  for  the  next  best  commoditj^  for 
she  is  bound  to  make  a  sale  at  some  lay ;  and,  if 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIESKV. 


Gl 


she  cannot  do  better,  she  may  at  length  be  reduced 
to  the  alternative,  humiliating  thought  it  may  be, 
of  keeping  on  her  hands  a  despondent  old  maid,  or 
of  exchanging  her  off  for  a  bundle  of  rags.  In  this 
alternative  she  Avill  do  precisely  as  the  pedler  does — 
dispose  of  her  commoditj',  and  take  the  rags.  And 
now,  my  friend,  are  not  these  two  traffickers  much 
alike  ?  Which  employ  the  most  art  in  their  negotia- 
tions, the  speculators  in  tin  ware,  or  the  speculators 
in  daughtei-s,  I  give  no  opinion.  But  I  must  hasten 
to  close  up  this  peddling  year. 

Tin-ware  was  beginning  to  be  a  drug,  and  pedlere 
were  along  so  often  that  it  was  becoming  difficult 
to  get  people  to  look  into  my  box ;  (for  it  was 
generally  the  case  that  if  I  could  get  them  to  come 
out  to  my  wagon  I  was  sure  to  trade  some.)  I, 
therefore,  resorted  to  a  stratagem  to  lure  them  from 
their  retreats,  much  in  the  same  way  that  the  fowl- 
er uses  his  stool-pigeon  to  attract  the  attention  of 
the  flock.  I  bought  a  young  cub  and  fastened  it  on 
my  wagon,  and  on  drinng  up  to  a  house,  before  I 
could  get  my  wagon-box  open,  the  children  would 
discover  the  bear,  with  the  exclamation,  "  O  Ma ! 
see  the  bear  on  the  pedler's  wagon !"  And  by  the 
time  I  had  opened  my  box  the  whole  family  were 
gathered  about  my  wagon.  Thus,  between  the  bear 
and  myself,  we  sold  a  large  amount  of  ware;  al- 
though Mr.  K.  made  considerable  in  selling  his 
tin,  yet  he  lost  much  in  getting  rid  of  the  stuff  he 
took  in  exchange.    In  the  course  of  this  employment 


62 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


my  ingenuity  was  often  severely  taxed,  my  love 
of  jollity  and  the  ridiculous  often  gratified,  and 
upon  the  whole,  my  acquaintance  with  the  world 
and  my  notions  of  human  nature  were  a  good  deal 
enlarged. 

My  peddling  engagement  being  completed,  the 
next  speculation  that  engaged  my  attention  was 
bell  making — another  new  business  to  me.  Accord- 
ingly, I  formed  a  co-partnership  with  a  young  man 
of  my  own  age,  Hiram  Dixon,  for  the  purpose  of 
manufacturing  about  two  thousand  cow-bells,  in  the 
town  of  Litchfield.  This  was  like  putting  a  steady 
old  horse  to  work  witli  a  spirited  colt.  Dixon,  as 
to  years,  was  my  peer;  but  as  to  sedateness,  dignity 
of  deportment,  and  stability,  he  was  old  enough  to 
be  my  fether.  He  was  an  erect,  slim,  almost  gaunt, 
clerical-looking  gentleman,  with  a  face  that  looked 
as  if  it  might  have  served  some  reverend  curate  at 
the  installation  of  St.  Peter.  As  a  tribute  to  his 
clerical  cast,  he  was  familiarly  known  among  his 
acquaintances  by  the  cognomen  of  "  Elder  Spinner," 
there  being  in  the  county  a  venerable  dominie  of 
that  name,  all  but  the  "  elder."  But  notwithstand- 
ing our  so  opposite  characters,  we  united  our  capital 
and  labour,  made  our  two  thousand  cow-bells,  and 
set  out  for  the  western  country  to  dispose  of  them. 
We  sold  them  mostly  at  Cleveland,  Upper  and 
Lower  Sandusky,  and  Detroit,  and  took  for  pay, 
horses,  deer-skins,  furs,  and  many  other  things. 
AVe  landed  at  Detroit  the  day  that  General  Cass 


LIKH  OF  U.  W.  IIENKV. 


63 


was  inaugurated  governor  of  the  Michigan  Territory-. 
Detroit,  at  that  time,  contained  but  a  few  houses, 
and  they  were  old  and  dingy.  I  think  it  had  but 
two  taverns.  The  pi-incipal  one,  where  the  governor 
put  up,  was,  of  course,  so  filled  that  we  wayfaring 
traffickers  could  not  find  entertainnaent  there ;  so  we 
were  constrained  to  go  down  to  the  less  nabobical 
''Blue  Ball,"  as  the  next  and  only  resort.  Here 
we  received  genuine  "  western "  fare,  and  slept  on 
a  straw  couch.  However,  the  next  day  we  disposed 
of  as  much  of  our  merchandise  as  we  could,  and 
prepared  to  take  ship  for  home.  To  cut  short  a  long 
story,  we  gathered  up  our  deer-skins  and  other  eftects, 
and  took  them  to  the  city  of  New- York,  the  most 
of  them,  and  made  a  tolerably  profitable  ti'ip,  if  I 
recollect  rightly. 

Being  now  tired  and  sick  of  roving,  I  took  a  firm 
resolve  to  settle  down  in  some  steady  business,  get 
married,  and  be  no  longer  "  a  citizen  of  the  world." 
So,  in  the  fall  of  1823,  I  bought  a  lot  in  Frankfort, 
Herkimer  County,  and  built  a  blacksmith  shop  and 
bell  factory.  There  were  at  that  time  one  tavern, 
one  store,  and  a  few  scattered  dwellings  in  this  place. 
It  was  then  not  known  as  a  village.  It  is  now  a 
sprightly  and  rather  handsome  village,  numbering 
about  seven  hundred  inhabitants.  When  I  had  got 
my  bell  factory,  and  blacksmith  shop  completed  and 
supplied  with  workmen,  my  business  and  my  purse 
gi'eatly  increased.  But  here  was  in  waiting  for  me 
another  unexpected  reverse.    There  was  then  pre- 


04  TlilALS  AND  rnil  Ml'IlS  IN  THE 

valent  in  our  country  an  epidemic — a  disease  of  the 
eyes.  I  arose  one  morning  in  March  perfectly  sound 
and  healthy,  but  before  noon  I  was  as  blind  as  a 
post.  My  eyes  were  greatly  swollen  with  intense 
inflammation.  I  remained  in  blindness  till  mid- 
summer, when,  by  a  great  deal  of  good  nursing,  I 
partially  recovered.  In  the  mean  time  my  business 
affairs  were  in  a  state  of  chaos,  and  my  shop  was 
desolate ;  but  as  soon  as  I  was  well  enough,  I  went 
to  New- York,  took  with  me  all  the  bells  I  liad  made, 
and  an  elegant  large  Arabian  horse,  beautifully 
piebald,  with  a  large,  graceful,  silvery  tail,  nearly 
sweeping  the  ground,  and  his  mane  corresponding : 
but  he  was  a  lazy,  clumsy  ti'aveller.  I  expected  to 
get  for  him  about  $140  in  the  city,  but  in  taking 
him  from  the  vessel  to  the  wharf,  he,  by  a  slip, 
lamed  himself,  so  that  it  was  difficult  to  get  him  in 
or  out  of  the  stable  for  many  days.  I  disposed  of 
my  bells  at  once,  and  would  gladly  have  left  the  city 
for  home,  could  I  have  disposed  of  my  lame  horse, 
which,  with  myself,  cost  me  at  least  two  dollars  a 
day  for  maintenance.  I  began  to  feel  a  horse  fever : 
I  hunted  up  customers  who  would  come  only  to  look 
at  my  horse  and  find  fault  with  him,  offer  me  some 
trifling  sum  for  liira,  and  walk  off.  But  I  at  length 
found  a  man  who  was  buying  up  horses  to  establish 
a  circus  in  the  city.  He  said  he  would  give  me  a 
great  price  for  my  horse  if  I  would  get  him  well  of 
his  lameness.  Cheered  by  this  prospect,  I  fussed 
over  him  and  doctored  him  until  he  was  nearly  or 


HFK  OF  li.  W.  HEXKV. 


05 


quite  well.  I  harnessed  him  one  day  before  a  buggy 
and  drove  him  gallantly  down  to  show  liim  to  the 
circusman,  my  palms,  meantime,  itching  for  about 
$140.  The  circusman,  after  driving  him  a  little  be- 
fore the  carriage,  desired  to  take  him  out  and  try 
his  activity  in  galloping  around  a  circle.  So  we 
drove  down  to  a  vacant  piece  of  ground,  which  was 
surrounded  by  some  old  rickety  houses,  filled  with 
the  very  poorest  class  of  people.  There  was  one 
old  liouse  with  a  set  of  dilapidated  stairs,  fenced  in 
by  some  rotten  banisters  to  prevent  people  or  other 
animals  from  falling  into  a  hole  about  four  feet  deep, 
in  front  of  the  basement  story,  which  was  occupied 
by  a  negro  family,  while  this  hole  or  cavity  between 
the  basement  and  the  banistei-s  was  ornamented  with 
a  swill-ban-el  and  other  like  useful  articles.  An 
Irish  family  lived,  or  rather  staid,  above.  The  liorse 
was  taken  out,  and  a  boy  mounted  him,  whip  in  hand, 
to  prove  his  dexterity.  He  had  nothing  on  his  liead 
but  a  blind-bridle  and  gig-rein,  which  served  to  pull 
liis  nose  right  straight  up.  With  the  blind-bridle  on, 
he  could  not  see  where  he  went,  but  he  made  one 
or  two  awkward  evolutions.  He  took  fright,  and, 
with  his  nose  elevated  in  the  air,  like  a  hog's  in  a 
gale  of  wind,  he  rushed  with  all  speed  towards  the 
above  described  house  and  gave  a  desperate  plunge, 
sweeping  away  the  old  banisters  as  a  cobweb,  and 
dashing  his  liead  through  the  Irish  woman's  window, 
scattering  the  sash  and  glass  through  lier  house, 
while  his  fore  legs  knocked  in  the  negro  woman's 


6U  TKIALS  AKU  TKlUMiniS  IN  HIE 

window  in  the  same  manner,  at  tlie  same  time  that 
one  of  his  hind  legs  was  in  the  swill-barrel !  The 
shouts  of  the  rowdies  that  had  gathered  round,  in 
concert  with  the  vocifeious  squalls  and  cursings  that 
came  from  the  negro  nest  below  and  the  Irish  wo- 
man above,  rendered  the  scene  laughable  and  yet 
distressing.  My  horse  fever  was  now  at  its  height ! 
But  my  philosophy  soon  returned  to  my  aid.  I 
cooled  down,  got  some  ropes,  and  with  the  aid  of 
the  multitude,  soon  had  my  hoise  standing  on  his 
cantering  ground  once  more.  I  paid  the  damage 
he  had  done  to  the  house,  swapped  him  away  im- 
mediately for  a  cart-liorse,  and  then  sold  the  cart- 
horse for  forty  dollai's,  which  just  about  paid  my 
bills  at  the  livery  stable  and  tavern ;  and  lastly  took 
a  steamboat  that  night,  happy  and  thankful  that  I 
had  got  rid  of  him  so  well.  Foi;  I  seldom,  if  ever, 
in  the  whole  couree  of  my  life,  cried  for  spilled  milk, 
but  generally  gatheixid  up  my  spoon  and  basin, 
well  peisuaded,  by  some  bright  prospect  just  before 
me,  that  it  would  soon  be  better  filled.  In  fact,  I 
have  generally  felt  more  courage  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  than  in  any  other  position.  Running  after  the 
riches  of  this  world  for  the  purpose  of  happiness 
is  like  a  child  seeking  for  i)retty  thing-s  at  the  rain- 
bow's end,  which  seems  to  be  just  in  the  adjoining 
field.  So  hope  and  ambition  have  led  men  on 
from  the  wreck  of  one  prospect  to  the  opening  of 
another — from  one  failure  to  another  fortune  in 
]  (ros|)e(.'t. 


I.IFE  UK  O.  W,  IIKNKV. 


07 


No  sooner  had  I  landed  at  Albany  that  night 
than  I  bought  another  large  quantity  of  stock  for 
bells.  In  handling  over  a  lot  of  rusty  sheet-iron,  ^ 
and  exerting  myself  to  get  my  stuff  shipped  for 
Frankfort  that  night,  I  was  in  a  state  of  profuse 
perspiration.  My  object  accomplished,  I  mounted 
the  stage  for  Troy,  whereby  I  took  a  severe  cold, 
which,  together  with  the  iron-rust,  caused  a  relapse 
of  tlie  disease  of  my  eyes ;  and  when  I  got  out  of 
the  stage  at  Troy  my  eyes  were  terribly  swollen. 
I  hastened  liome  again  to  my  friends,  suffering  ex- 
cruciating pain,  and  entirely  blind ;  and  I  think  I 
lay  for  about  three  months  in  a  dark  room  excru- 
ciated by  the  inflammation  of  my  eyes  and  tortured 
by  my  physician,  until  at  length  I  was  emaciated 
to  a  mere  skeleton.  My  friends  and  physician  de- 
spaired of  my  ever  again  seeing  the  light  of  day,  and 
indeed  few,  if  any,  expected  me  long  to  live.  My 
pious  mother  sometimes  spoke  to  me  of  my  pre- 
paration for  the  solemn  change,  which  was  rather 
oflensive  to  my  eai-s,  for  even  in  this  state  of  affairs 
I  was  full  of  hope  and  expectation  of  a  speedy  re- 
covery both  of  sight  and  health ;  indeed,  some  of 
the  finest  speculations  were  here  presented  to  my 
view,  rendering  a  sure  equivalent  for  all  my  bad 
luck.  I  will  here  relate  two  dreams  that  brought 
me  relief  in  my  darkest  time,  singular,  and,  as  I 
thought,  significant.  I  dreamed  that  I  suddenly 
died  in  the  city  of  New- York,  or  was  supposed  to 
be  dead,  and  was  immediately  taken  and  laid  in  a 


68  TRIALS  AND  TKILMI'HS  IN  THE 

vault  or  sepulchre  in  St.  Paul's  church-yard.  I 
thought  I  came  to  life  and  broke  open  the  stone  of 
the  sepulchre  and  came  out,  and  then  I  saw  erected 
a  tomb-stone  with  this  inscription  on  it,  "  Sacred  to 
the  memory  of  George  W.  Henry,"  telling  the  man- 
ner of  my  death.  I  there  also  read  four  lines  of 
well-measured  poetry,  most  perfectly  appropriate  to 
my  case,  and,  as  I  thought  I  read  them,  I  awoke, 
and  I  think  I  repeated  the  verse  to  my  mother,  who 
was  then  sitting  by  my  bed-side,  relating  to  her  my 
dream,  and  assuring  her  that  I  should  soon  recover. 
The  verse  has  entirely  escaped  from  my  memory. 
Again,  falling  asleep,  I  dreamed  of  being  on  the  ice 
on  a  mill-pond,  which  broke  in  with  me,  and  I 
thought  I  should  liave  drowned  had  it  not  been  for 
old  Mrs.  Golden,  an  old  lady  living  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood. I  then  awoke  and  found  myself  high 
and  dry  in  bed.  Soon  after,  this  same  old  lady 
came  in  and  proposed  a  remedy  for  my  eyes,  which 
was  a  salve  of  cat-tail  flag-root,  and  which,  on  trial, 
produced  a  speedy  cure.  I  was  soon  on  my  legs 
again,  wide  awake  for  business.  Now,  reader,  you 
have  a  right  to  think  just  as  you  please  about  these 
dreams — I  only  hope  you  will  suit  yourself. 

My  next  move,  after  these  calamities,  was  to 
gather  together  my  workmen,  tools,  and  stock,  and 
to  get  my  shop  into  full  operation  again.  I  then 
proceeded  to  build  and  finish  off  a  two-story  house, 
together  with  the  requisite  out-houses,  such  as  barn, 
woodshed,  &c.,  in  neat  and  handsome  order.  This 


LIFK  OK        \V.  HEXRV.  G9 

was  all  (lone  in  al)out  three  months  after  m)'  re- 
covery from  sickness,  and  my  house  was  very  neatly 
and  comfortably  furnished.  My  cousin,  Miss  Mary 
Everett,  a  well-educated  and  intelligent  young  lady 
of  about  my  own  age,  set  my  house  in  excellent 
order,  for  a  young  bachelor,  and  made  it  as  cheerful 
as  a  bachelor's  hall  well  could  be,  and  at  the  same 
time  rendered  me  great  assistance  in  posting  my 
books  and  in  acting  as  my  scribe  generally.  I  was 
now,  late  in  the  same  fall,  ready  to  go  to  New- York 
again  with  a  fine  lot  of  bells,  (unencumbered  by  any 
Arabian  hoi-se,)  which  were  soon  disposed  of  to  the 
hardware  merchants,  and  a  contract  was  made  for 
about  six  thousand  more,  and  stock  procured  for  the 
same.  But  right  here  fortune  had  set  another  snare 
for  me,  baited  with  a  golden  prospect.  There  had 
just  been  introduced  into  market  the  fair  calf-skin 
pocket-book,  which  sold  very  quick  and  at  a  large 
profit.  The  merchants  advised  me  to  go  into  the 
manufacturing  of  them,  suggesting  that  there  could 
be  any  quantity  sold  in  the  spring.  My  bell  and 
bell-stufi'  contract  being  consummated,  I  soon  re- 
turned liome,  and  my  fii-st  move  was  to  prepare  me 
a  saddle  and  harness-maker's  shop ;  hired  journey- 
men, procured  stock,  and  set  them  to  work  at  mak- 
ing saddles  and  harness,  as  I  needed  men  that  were 
acquainted  with  leather  to  assist  about  cutting  out 
pocket-books ;  this  was  the  reason  that  I  established 
this  shop.  My  next  move  was  to  put  my  bell  fac- 
tory into  lull  operation.    About  this  time  I  had  con- 


70  TRIALS  AND  TRU'MPUS  IN  THE 

traded  with  the  superintendent  of  the  cannl  to  do 
the  principal  iron  work  on  about  forty  miles  of  the 
Erie  Canal,  for  the  State.  This  branch  of  business 
being  under  full  headway,  and  having  procured  my 
materials  for  pocket-books,  I  employed  twelve  or 
fifteen  young  ladies,  mostly  farmers'  daughters,  to 
sew  the  pocket-books.  They  all  boarded  with  me, 
and  a  more  respectable  and  comely  looking  party 
of  young  women  you  could  scarcely  wish  to  look 
upon.  Reader,  pause  a  moment  and  look  back  but 
six  months,  where  you  find  the  author  making  his 
way  out  of  the  old  church-yard  of  St.  Paid's,  and 
loscued  from  the  old  mill-dam ;  you  see  him  de- 
prived of  sight  and  balancing  between  two  worlds, 
his  business  aflairs  a  heterogeneous  mass  of  con- 
fusion :  behold,  and  mark  the  change  that  a  few 
short  months  have  wrought,  and  hence  learn  never 
to  despair  as  long  as  you  have  life,  and  a  solitary 
red  cent  and  a  jack-knife  to  jingle  together.  Let 
fiiith  and  works  go  hand  in  hand  in  temporal  affairs 
as  well  as  spiritual. 

When  I  arose  from  my  sickness,  six  months  pre- 
\dous,  from  the  many  losses  I  had  suffered,  I  do  not 
think  I  was  worth  over  one  hundred  dollars:  by  the 
time  five  months  had  elapsed,  I  think  I  had  my 
buildings  nearly  paid  for  by  the  profits  I  had  received 
on  my  last  lot  of  bells,  and  I  now  had  in  my  employ 
upwards  of  thirty  workmen,  including  the  interest- 
ing collection  of  young  ladies.  What  a  field  for  a 
man  of  enterprise,  and  a  lady's  man  withal !  Be- 


LIFE  OF  (i.  W.  IIKNHV. 


71 


sides  these  young  ladies  in  ni}-  employ,  my  house 
was  a  rendezvous  for  all  the  young  beaux  and  belles 
of  the  neighbourhood,  and  hilarity  was  generally  the 
order  of  the  day.  I  was  constrained  to  put  on  as 
much  gravity  of  look  and  dignity  of  deportment  as 
I  could  assume,  in  order  to  preserve  that  order  in 
the  ranks  which  decorum  as  well  as  pecuniary  con- 
siderations demanded ;  still  there  was  any  quantity 
of  fun  and  frolic  to  be  had.  In  reviewing  those 
young  ladies,  then  so  full  of  mirth  and  apparent 
happiness,  I  find  they  have  many  of  them  gone  to 
the  spirit-land.  But  spring  came  on ;  and  by  the 
time  the  canal  opened,  I  had  a  large  quantity^  of 
hells  and  pocket-books  ready  for  market.  My  bells 
I  readily  disposed  of  in  New-York,  and  made  money 
on  them ;  but  unfortunately  for  my  pocket-books,  I 
lost  about  as  much  on  them  as  I  made  on  my  bells. 
The  New-England  folks  had  taken  the  hint  as  to  the 
pocket-book  speculation,  (they  are  generally  wide 
awake  for  novelties,)  and  made  enough  that  winter 
to  glut  the  whole  market ;  and  the  East  River  hav- 
ing opened  about  ten  days  earlier  than  the  Hudson, 
my  Yankee  neighbours  had  got  the  start  of  me,  and 
reduced  me  to  the  unpoetical  necessity  of  disposing 
of  mine  at  the  best  rate  I  might,  at  public  auction. 
Thus  what  I  made  on  one  lot,  I  lost  on  the  other. 
But  then  business  is  business,  and  I  had  had  the 
satisfaction  of  driving  a  smacking  enterprise  with  no 
little  gusto.  I  realized  here,  as  many  times  after- 
wards, the  significance  of  the  woi'ds  of  the  satirist : — 


riilAi.S  AND  TinUMPIIS  IN  THK 


"  The  King  of  France  went  up  the  hill, 
And  then  went  down  again." 

I  returned  home,  where  (having  dismissed  my  lielp 
l)efore  starting  for  New- York)  I  found  my  house 
and  my  sliop  empty  and  silent.  Desolation  brooded 
over  the  scene. 

"  I  felt  like  one  w  ho  treads  alone 

Some  banquet  hall  deserted, 
Whose  lights  are  fled,  whose  garlands  dead, 

And  all  hut  he  departed." 

Or,  like  Richard  III.,  I  felt  that  "  I  never  could  en- 
dure an  inglorious  peace."  It  was  like  a  sickening 
calm  succeeding  a  rough  sea. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Soon  after  my  return  from  New- York,  as  before  re- 
lated, when  desolation  brooded  over  my  earthly 
habitation,  and  when  grim  despair  would  have 
paralyzed  the  energies  of  a  less  elastic  disposition,  I 
entered  upon  another  project,  which,  like  every  for- 
mer undertaking,  seemed  to  promise  a  fortune.  I 
resolved  to  build  a  large  tavern  in  the  village  of 
Frankfort,  having  a  strong  desire  to  build  up  the 
place,  which  was  then  in  its  infancy ;  and  it  was  the 
opinion  of  many  knowing  ones  of  my  neighbours 
that  another  public  house  would  be  supported,  there 
already  being  one,  as  before  stated,  in  the  village. 


LIKE  OK  <;.  W.  fIBNKV. 


73 


Ha\in2:  resolved  to  commence  it,  and  knowing  tliat 
I.  had  not  sufficient  capital  to  complete  it,  I  made  an 
agreement  with  Adam  I.  Campbell,  a  resident  of  the 
place,  for  him  to  advance  money  and  goods  to  assist 
me  in  the  completion  of  it,  at  the  same  time  placing 
all  my  property  in  liis  hands  as  an  indemnity  against 
any  loss ;  expecting,  when  it  should  be  completed, 
to  raise  money  on  it  by  mortgage  whereby  to  pay 
Mr.  Campbell  and  redeem  my  property;  and  thus 
Mr.  C.  would  turn  many  of  his  goods  into  money, 
at  the  same  time  that  I  should  establish  my  public 
liouse,  and  add  much  to  the  business  and  beauty  of 
the  place.  In  spite  of  the  impediments  of  a  rainy 
autumn,  in  less  than  three  months  I  erected  a  hxrge 
brick  edifice,  together  with  a  large  barn  and  shed, 
besides  one  or  two  other  dwelling-houses,  and  had 
them  all  completed.  But  instead  of  its  costing  about 
$1,200,  as  had  been  estimated,  it  cost  more  than 
$2,000.  Failing  to  mortgage  it,  I  also  failed  to  re- 
cover it  from  Mr.  C.'s  hands ;  and  he,  having  stopped 
payments  after  advancing  about  half  its  cost,  and 
leaving  me  to  shoulder  the  rest  of  the  debt  without 
anything  to  pay  with,  still  holds  on  to  the  property 
to  the  present  day. 

At  this  time  I  think  my  debts  in  the  village  did 
not  exceed  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  besides 
this  debt  to  Mr.  Campbell ;  and  these  were  owing 
to  honest  and  industrious  mechanics,  and  it  is  greatly 
to  be  regretted  that  some  of  them  remain  unpaid  to 
the  present  time.    lUit  I  Avas  compelled,  by  one  of 


74  TRIALS  AND  TniUMPHS  IK  THE 

luy  principal  debts  in  the  city  of  New-York,  to  "  take 
the  benefit  of  the  act "  to  prevent  a  merciless  ca.  sa., 
as  the  lawyers  call  it,  from  consigning  me  to  the 
walls  of  a  debtor's  prison,  or  restricting  my  residence 
within  the  "  limits,"  among  a  set  of  lazy  loafers — an 
unpleasant  alternative,  it  is  true,  for  an  honest  man, 
but  one  which  a  man  of  my  habits  of  life,  who  loved 
action  and  his  personal  liberty  as  I  did,  could  not 
hesitate  to  choose.  Yet  I  resolved,  before  taking 
the  benefit  of  the  act,  to  make  one  more  effort  to 
pay  my  debts  without  being  reduced  to  that  hu- 
miliating necessity.  I  went  to  Herkimer  and  united 
with  Mr.  William  Small  in  making  up  a  large  quan- 
tity of  cow-bells.  He  was  to  find  the  materials  and 
r  to  do  the  work. 

I  worked  faithfully  during  that  winter,  and  turned 
out  a  large  quantity  of  fine  bells,  while  all  the  stock 
and  bells,  meantime,  were  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  S., 
with  a  private  understanding  between  us  that  I 
should  have  all  the  profits  arising  from  the  sale  of 
them,  to  pay  my  honest  liabilities,  he  standing  be- 
tween me  and  my  merciless  creditor.  But  it  finally 
turned  out  much  like  the  fable  of  the  two  travellers, 
who  found  an  oyster,  and  submitted  the  question  of 
title  to  an  ingenious  lawyer,  they  being  unable  to 
settle  the  point  between  themselves ;  the  lawyer,  you 
remember,  took  out  his  jack-knife,  opened  the  oyster, 
swallowed  the  meat  himself,  and  gave  each  disputant 
a  shell  for  his  share,  which  was  doubtless  very  satis- 
factory to  both.    So  it  happened  with  tlie  debtor 


LIFC  OF  0.  W.  HKNRV. 


75 


ami  cmlitor  in  this  ease,  as  well  in  regard  to  the 
brick  house,  as  the  bell  contract;  they  could  both 
have  said,  in  reference  to  the  matter,  "  blessed  be 
nothing and  had  I  been  called  upon  to  give  up 
the  ghost  just  then,  I  could  have  said,  like  Job,  that 
I  came  naked  into  the  world,  and  naked  I  should  go 
out  I  was  compelled,  painful  as  it  was,  after  all 
my  toil  and  anxiety,  to  avoid  such  a  result,  to  take 
the  benefit  of  the  act.  I  therefore  filed  my  bond, 
advertised  in  the  newspapers  for  three  months,  and 
prepared  to  set  sail  for  the  Lackawaxen  Canal,  in  Penn- 
sylvania, where  I  should  be  earning  some  money,  and 
at  the  same  time  be  as  far  removed  as  possible  from 
the  taunts  and  sneers  and  curses  of  a  certain  class 
of  public-spirited  gentlemen,  who  are  generally  seen 
sitting  in  tavern-porches,  and  who  drink  rum,  smoke 
cigars,  and  swear  lustily,  and  to  show  their  philan- 
thropy and  abhorrence  of  dishonesty,  are  usually 
engaged  in  descanting  upon  the  demerits,  and  mak- 
ing slanderous  observations  of  their  industrious 
neighbours ;  and  if  one  of  these  has  been  so  unfor- 
tunate as  to  fail  in  business,  no  matter  how  upright 
and  honest  may  have  been  the  whole  tenor  of  his 
course,  these  tavern-haunting  gossips  will  be  heard 
loudly  lamenting  how  much  tJmj  hav:e  suftered  by 
such  failure,  and  pleading  the  same  in  excuse  for  the 
non-payment  of  their  tailor,  board,  and  tavern  bills. 

It  has  ever  been  one  of  the  greatest  mysteries  to 
me,  how  so  many  of  the  above-mentioned  characters 
pass  so  easily  through  life,  generally  well  dressed 


1G 


TRIALS  AND  TRIl'MPIIS  IN  THE 


.uid  fivt,  while  they  scarcely  make  an  efloi  t  above 
tliat  of  whittling  a  shingle,  or  picking  their  teeth, 
that  have  fed  on  other  people's  earnings ;  and  at  the 
same  time  the  industrious  and  deserving,  by  inces- 
sant toil  and  frugality,  can  scarcely  get  a  comforta- 
ble living.  But  then  I  am  satisfied  that  the  well- 
clad  loafer  is  more  justly  an  object  of  pity  than  of 
envy ;  the  beggar  in  rags  is  a  gentleman  compared 
with  the  beggar  in  fine  cloth,  for  the  latter  combines 
ill  himself  the  knave  with  the  mendicant — a  most 
unworthy  compound — a  composition,  however,  usu- 
ally met  with  in  your  bar-room  brawlers  and  village 
gossips. 

But  in  my  case  was  fulfilled  the  old  atlage — 
"  Fools  build  houses,  and  wise  men  live  in  them  ;" 
for  of  all  my  acquaintance,  I  know  of  no  individual 
who  could  go  through  the  United  States  and  show 
more  houses  of  his  own  construction,  and  shops, 
steam-mills  and  water-mills,  besides  rail-roads,  canals, 
lumbering,  &c.,  than  myself ;  and  now,  after  all,  at 
the  meridian  of  life,  I  have  not  so  much  as  a  shingle 
to  whittle,  of  which  I  can  claim  the  fee  simple. 
But  in  all  these  circumstances,  I  have  realized  that 

"Hope  swells  eternal  in  the  human  breast; 
Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest." 

At  the  time  of  which  I  was  speaking,  a  fine 
speculation  was  presented  at  the  South  to  engage 
myself  on  the  public  works ;  but  the  ways  and  means 
for  transporting  myself  to  the  new  land  of  promise 


HrK  OF  G.  \V.  HENKV. 


77 


were  to  be  devised ;  and  to  effect  this,  I  was  reduced 
to  the  mortifying  necessity  of  disposing  of  all  that 
remained  to  me  of  the  wreck  of  my  fortune — how 
greatly  to  the  humbling  of  my  military  ]mde !  My 
martial  equipments  I  sold  to  Edward  I)a^^s,  Esq., 
one  of  my  lieutenants.  This  recalls  to  my  mind 
another  one  of  mj'  feats  of  folly.  I  had  just  re- 
turned from  sitting  as  one  of  the  board  of  Court 
Martial  of  the  regiment,  as  my  masons  laid  the  last 
cap-stone  of  the  brick  house,  and  it  was  agreed  by 
them  that  I  should  stand  erect  on  the  top  battle- 
ment in  full  uniform,  and  take  a  bottle  of  liquor  in 
hand,  drink  a  toast,  give  three  cheers,  and  throw 
the  bottle,  which  was  very  readily  complied  with. 
AVhile  I  thus  stood,  plumed  like  a  peacock,  had  any 
one  told  me  that  in  a  few  days  I  should  be  obliged 
to  sell  the  very  clothes  that  were  then  upon  my 
back,  and  the  epaulets  that  graced  my  shouldei-s,  to 
bear  my  expenses  in  travelling  out  of  sight  of  the 
very  building  I  had  toiled  so  hard  to  erect,  and 
which  I  was  then  honouring  with  a  toast,  I  can 
hardly  say  whether  it  would  have  "  raised  my 
dander,"  or  moved  me  to  laughter  at  his  presump- 
tion !  But,  ah  me  !  how  little  do  we  know  what  a 
day  may  bring  forth  !  MiUtaiy  pride,  manly  ambi- 
tion, even  the  glory  itself  of  this  world,  all,  all  are 
the  sport  and  playthings  of  fortune. 

All  things  being  packed  up  for  my  departure,  I 
bade  adieu  to  all  my  friends  and  building-s,  and 
very  soon  found  myself  engaged  in  superintending 


18  TIUALS  ANU  TKIUMPHS  IN  THE 

labourers  on  the  Lackawaxen,  at  tliirty  dollars  a 
month  and  board,  for  Littlejohn  &  Bellinger.  It 
was  in  a  wilderness  country.  Here  I  continued  till 
the  time  arrived  for  my  return  to  Frankfort,  to  attend 
to  my  insolvency  matters.  But  here  fate  had  pre- 
pared another  sore  disappointment  and  grievous  mis- 
fortune for  me,  just  before  I  was  ready  to  return  to 
Frankfort.  I  was  suddenly  seized  with  an  acute  in- 
flammation of  the  eyes,  by  which,  with  the  mal- 
treatment of  a  quack  doctor,  I  entirely  lost  my  right 
eye  within  two  days  from  the  time  I  was  fii-st  taken, 
and  I  have  never  seen  out  of  it  from  that  day  to 
this :  the  coatings  of  the  eye  broke,  and  the  humours 
ran  out.  I  came  back,  however,  enduring  severe 
pain,  arranged  my  business,  and  recovered  my  health 
a  little.  I  hastened  to  the  South  again,  and  in  less 
than  two  months  had  under  contract  more  than 
twenty  thousand  dollars  worth  of  work  on  the  Juniata 
Canal,  in  the  southern  part  of  Pennsylvania,  with 
little  else  than  my  face  to  recommend  me  at  that 
time.  I  had  three  locks  to  build ;  my  credit  was 
about  as  good  as  any  other  man's  for  all  I  had  need 
of,  and  I  was  soon  under  full  headway,  with  bright 
prospects  of  clearing  about  three  thousand  dollars  ; 
and  what  made  it  more  cheering,  I  was  hoping  to 
be  able  to  pay  all  my  honest  debts  in  this  country. 

By  untiring  application  I  built  one  lock,  the  first 
on  the  line,  and  never  did  I  perform  a  piece  of  work 
more  faithfully  and  honestly  than  I  did  that  lock. 
But,  says  the  reader,  I  hope  bad  luck  did  not  attend 


79 


you  liere,  too  ?  But  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you,  that 
when  liope  was  the  highest,  and  my  prospects  tlie 
brightest,  fate  here  again  crossed  my  path.  I  took 
the  contract  under  De  Witt  Clinton,  jr.,  son  of  Gov- 
ernor Clinton,  who  was  chief  engineer,  and  a  particular 
friend  of  mine.  The  lock  was  partly  built  up  under 
his  supervision  ;  but  the  canal  commissioners  and 
he  disagreed,  and  he  left  the  line.  There  was  re- 
placed in  his  stead  a  little,  contemptible,  petty  tyrant, 
who  had  once  or  twice  rubbed  his  back  against  the 
rocks  at  AVest  Point.  Soon  there  commenced  a 
civil,  or  rather  an  uncivil  war  between  the  contractors 
and  canal  commissioners.  The  only  weapon  used, 
however,  both  offensive  and  defensive,  was  the 
tongue,  that  unruly  member,  which  is  full  of  poison. 
About  one-half  of  the  contractore  were  New- York 
men ;  and  there  were  envy  and  jealousy  awakened 
in  the  breasts  of  the  Pennsylvanians  against  Clinton 
and  his  principal  assistant,  Wm.  H.  Morel),  who  was 
also  a  New-Yorker,  or  Yankee,  as  we  were  called, 
charging  them  with  being  partial  to  their  own 
countrymen,  both  in  bestowing  work  and  in  grant- 
ing indulgences ;  and  this  was  one  of  the  reasons 
that  Clinton  and  Morell  left  the  canal. 

As  is  common  in  such  cfises,  each  party  took  up 
for  their  friends,  and  here  is  the  only  charge  I  bring 
against  myself  in  the  whole  transaction,  which  was 
the  cause  of  the  sad  disaster  which  followed ;  and 
that  is,  that  I  took  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  behalf 
and  sujjportof  Clinton  and  Morell  against  the  canal 


80  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

commissioners,  who  I  knew  were  men  too  noble 
and  high-minded  to  be  justly  subject  to  such  charges 
as  were  brought  against  them.  But  there  is  no  re- 
sisting successfully  public  clamour,  or  Avhat  is  called 
public  opinion;  law,  equity,  innocence,  all  are  in- 
sufficient for  this,  when  the  multitude  cry,  "  Crucify 
him  !  crucify  him  !"  So  it  happened  with  Clinton 
and  his  friends :  he  was  obliged  to  give  way,  as  be- 
fore stated,  to  this  smalt  tyrant,  chosen  by  the  com- 
missioners as  a  cat's  paw  in  their  hands,  to  punish 
the  friends  of  Mr.  Clinton  with. 

During  the  period  of  this  warfare,  I  had  finished 
the  lock  in  question  from  bottom  to  top,  both  neat 
and  strong,  and  was  then  entitled  to  receive  therefor 
!5!2,'700.  But  instead  of  my  receiving  that,  as  was 
my  due,  there  was  pronounced  an  edict  by  this 
petty  tyrant,  like  that  pronounced  against  the  tem- 
ple and  walls  of  Jerusalem,  that  not  one  stone  sliould 
be  left  upon  another.  He  must  see  the  bottom 
course  of  it,  giving  as  a  reason  that  he  was  deter- 
mined to  see  all  the  important  Avork  on  the  line 
reared  up  under  his  immediate  eye.  This  inflicted 
a  wound  upon  my  prosperity,  which  was  never  fully 
healed.  A  contract  with  the  Commonwealth  had 
been  di-awn  up  in  the  most  aristocratic  form,  bind- 
ing the  contractor  to  strict  obedience  to  the  will  of 
the  engineer  having  charge  of  the  work ;  so  that  any 
omission  or  neglect  on  the  part  of  the  contractor, 
whether  real  or  imaginary,  subjected  his  contract 
to  forfeiture,  according  to  the  caprice  of  this  lordling 


I.IFB  OF  (;.  W.  HENKV. 


81 


chief,  whose  word  was  the  end  of  the  law,  tlioiigli 
not  in  righteousness  ;  and  one-fifth  of  all  the  money 
estimated  on  the  job  was  forfeited  besides,  which 
was  denominated  a  retain  percentage.  This  is  re- 
tained by  the  State  as  a  guaranty  for  the  perform- 
ance of  the  undertaking.  For  instance,  should  a 
contractor  do  a  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  work 
every  month,  he  is  paid  but  eight  hundred  dollars 
for  it ;  so  if  a  man  had  a  contract  of  fifty  thousand 
dollars,  when  the  job  is  completed,  the  State  retains 
in  its  hands  ten  thousand  of  it,  which  is  used  as  a 
rod  to  hold  over  him  until  the  final  completion  of 
his  engagement,  to  compel  him  to  yield  to  the  re- 
quirements of  the  State,  for  this  is  always  subject  to 
forfeiture. 

I  am  more  particular  on  this  subject  than  I  would 
otherwise  be,  for  the  reason  that  so  many  wonders 
are  made  that  contractor  do  not  become  wealthy 
in  doing  so  much  business,  and  handling  so  much 
money ;  and,  if  possible,  to  relieve  myself  from  the 
odium  I  have  been  subjected  to  by  a  great  many  of 
my  friends  and  acquaintances,  who  are  so  apt  to 
judge  and  condemn  without  knowing  anything  of 
the  merits  of  the  case.  So  you  see  I  was  reduced 
to  this  dilemma — either  to  pull  down  my  lock  and 
build  it  over ;  or  to  walk  off  and  leave  my  job,  and 
ray  workmen  and  creditors  unpaid.  But  you  know 
it  is  said,  "  What  can't  be  cured  must  be  endured," 
so  I  pulled  down  the  lock  ;  but  before  it  was  rebuilt, 
^  reaction  took  place  in  consequence  of  this  and 


82  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

many  liko  flagrant  assumptions  of  power,  and  the 
pigmy  tyrant  and  liis  sycophantic  assistant  were 
fairly  scouted  from  the  country  by  the  same  public, 
and  an  honourable  man  took  his  place  by  the  name 
of  James  Ferguson,  under  whom  I  finished  my 
work ;  and  with  much  difficulty  I  made  out  to  pay 
my  debts,  and  I  found  myself  in  a  safe  position  at 
the  bottom  of  the  hill.  In  this  contract  I  realized 
how  true  is  the  proverb  of  the  wise  man  :  "  He  that 
meddleth  with  strife  belonging  not  to  him,  is  like 
one  that  taketh  a  dog  by  the  ears." 

Here  I  might  tell  the  reader  of  an  adventure  I 
had  at  a  place  called  Tuckahoe,  at  the  headwaters 
of  the  Juniata,  among  the  Alleghany  mountains, 
where  I  had  gathered  up  about  eighty  rafts  of  tim- 
ber preparatory  to  launching,  after  the  river  should 
have  cleared  of  ice  in  the  spring;  and  how  there 
came  an  unusual  deluge  and  swept  my  lumber  down 
the  stream  and  lodged  it  together,  mixed  up  with 
other  rubbish  ;  and  what  difficulty  I  had  in  getting 
it  down  to  the  place  of  destination.  But  let  us  pass 
on  to  something  of  greater  moment,  and  more  in- 
teresting. And  I  would  have  my  kind  reader  mark 
as  we  pass,  the  sore  disappointments  that  are  con- 
cealed in  almost  every  glittering  prize  of  which  am- 
bition is  in  pursuit.  He  shall  see  that  it  is  almost 
true  that 

"  Each  pleasure  has  its  poison  too, 
And  every  sweet  its  snare." 

Although  T  now  found  myself,  as  T  had  often  before 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HEXRY. 


83 


beon,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  out  of  money,  nnd  out 
of  the  good  graces  of  the  canal  commissioners,  in 
consequence  of  my  zeal  in  the  cause  of  my  friend 
Clinton,  yet  they  were  forced  to  acknowledge  me  to 
be  a  good  contractor,  and  that  not  one  man  in 
twenty  would  hav^e  borne  up  under  my  embarrass- 
ments without  fainting,  or  would  have  attempted  to 
finish  the  work  as  I  had  done.  But  I  dre^v  up  a 
petition  to  the  Legislature  of  Pennsylvania,  asking 
remuneration  for  the  wrongs  and  loss  I  had  sus- 
tained from  the  flagitious  act  of  Alexander  Twining, 
the  chief  engineer.  I  rigged  up  in  a  first-rate  suit 
of  clothes,  went  to  Harrisburgh,  took  lodgings  at  the 
first  hotel  in  town,  and,  as  it  happened,  one  of  the 
Canal  Commissioners  was  my  chum,  and,  by-the- 
way,  a  very  clever,  social  man.  It  was  not  long 
before  I  was  reinstated  in  the  good  graces  of  the 
whole  Board ;  and  when  our  hearts  became  well 
mellowed  by  the  softening  influence  of  champagne, 
all  were  brought  on  a  level  together,  when  all  digni- 
ties and  titles  were  laid  under  the  table :  not  that 
the  dignitaries  themselves  were  laid  under  the  table, 
but  their  dignities  only  !  In  this  state  of  the  case 
I  chose,  rather  as  an  accident,  to  introduce  my  claim, 
and  in  such  an  unguarded  moment  you  know  almost 
any  man  may  be  brought  to  terms.  It  was  when 
Artaxerxas  was  well  filled  with  wine  that  Nehemiah 
pressed  his  claim,  and  received  a  grant,  not  only  of 
permission,  but  money  also,  to  rebuild  the  walls  of 
Jerusalem.   I  orot  my  first  bill  throitfrh  both  branches 


84 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IX  THE 


of  tlie  Legislature.  But  it  was  reduced  nearly  one- 
half  the  amount  I  was  entitled  to  by  a  portion  of 
the  members  who  were  inaccessible,  and  whose 
governing  principle  of  action  was,  "  Keep  what  you 
get,  and  get  what  you  can."  But  still  it  was  a 
profitable  winter  to  me,  in  many  respects ;  I  not 
only  listened  to  the  debates  of  both  houses,  but 
made  the  acquaintance  of  the  governor  and  many 
of  the  principal  men  of  the  State  and  nation,  to 
wliom  I  should  not  otherwise  have  had  access. 
Here  I  learned  much  of  human  nature;  and  from 
what  I  saw  here,  and  from  my  general  acquaintance 
witli  all  grades  of  mankind,  from  a  penny  whistle 
up  to  a  German  flute,  I  am  constrained  to  conclude 
that  Sam  Slick's  opinion  of  society  may  generally 
be  relied  on  as  correct.  Sam  says  be  found  society 
very  much  like  pickled  pork — the  bottom  pieces  a 
little  rusty,  the  tip-top  pieces  somewhat  tainted ; 
but  the  best  and  sweetest  of  the  pork  is  generally 
found  in  the  middle  layers  of  the  barrel.  This  is, 
of  course,  but  a  general  rule,  both  as  to  the  pork 
and  as  to  society,  and  is  subject  to  exceptions. 

In  the  winter  of  1831  the  Legislature  of  Penn- 
sylvania granted  a  loan  of  upwards  of  two  millions 
of  dollars  for  the  extension  of  rail-roads  and  canals 
in  the  State,  and  there  was  soon  thrown  into  the 
market  a  large  quantity  of  work.  The  first  was  a 
rail-road  to  cross  the  Alleghany  Mountains — the 
most  gigantic  work  of  the  kind  in  the  United  States 
— a  distance  of  thirty-six  miles,  commencing  at 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IlENKV. 


So 


Hollidaysburgb,  at  the  head  of  the  Juniata  Canal,  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  mountains,  and  ending  on  the 
west  side  of  the  village  of  Johnstown — thus  connect- 
ing the  line  of  canals  from  Philadelphia  to  Pitts- 
burgh. The  aggregate  cost  of  this  rail-road,  includ- 
ing materials,  on  an  average,  was  forty-four  tliousand 
dollars  per  mile.  The  time  for  letting  contracts  was 
at  hand,  and  the  time  for  me  to  make  another  rush 
for  fortune.  Well  knowing  that  I  had  but  Httle 
capital  to  begin  with,  I  proposed,  nevertheless,  for  a 
large  quantity  of  work,  believing  that  I  had  the  en- 
tire confidence  and  friendship  of  the  canal  coramis- 
sionere,  who  had  the  allotment  of  the  work ;  and 
they  proved  their  friendship  by  gi\ing  me  nine 
miles  of  the  above  road  to  construct,  and  in  addi- 
tion to  this,  upwards  of  one  million  feet  of  white-oak 
timber,  to  deliver  for  the  use  of  the  Commonwealth. 
Here  was  a  golden  prospect  for  me.  I  could  take 
my  pencil,  and  figure  out  a  fortune  of  ten  or  fifteen 
thousand  dollars,  clear  gain,  to  be  realized  at  the 
completion  of  this  job,  and  not  a  cloud  of  doubt 
ovei-shadowed  the  prospect.  Well,  says  the  reader, 
I  hope  we  shall  see  the  end  of  this  job  without  the 
interference  of  that  old  arch-foe.  Bad  Luck.  I  thank 
you,  my  kind  friend,  for  your  good  wishes ;  but  you 
will  learn,  as  you  pass  with  me  through  the  job,  as 
we  have  so  many  times  seen,  how  true  it  is  that 

"  Disappointment  lurks  in  many  a  prize, 
As  bees  in  flowers,  and  stings  us  with  success." 
And  here  my  disappointment  catne  from  a  source 


8G  TRIALS  AND  'IKIUMI'IIS  IN  THE 

unlooked  for  by  the  most  sagacious.  Misfortune, 
like  death,  comes  to  us  in  many  ways  and  many 
forms,  and  often  when  we  least  anticipate  its  pres- 
ence, and  finds  us  in  the  very  act  of  crying  peace 
and  safety.  It  is  now  a  mystery  to  me  how  I  could 
have  put  so  much  work  into  active  motion  at  once, 
without  any  capital  to  speak  of,  and  rising,  as  I  did, 
immediately  from  the  wreck  of  former  undertakings, 
like  a  phcenix  from  the  ashes  of  its  sire ;  for  I  had 
not,  at  this  time,  to  begin  all  this  work,  a  capital 
exceeding  $300 — a  work  embracing  the  pulling 
down  of  mountains,  the  filling  up  of  valleys,  hum- 
bling the  stately  forests  around  me,  building  mills, 
stores,  houses,  &c.,  necessary  to  commence  so  im- 
])ortant  a  job.  I  Avas  connected  in  business  Avith  no 
one ;  but  in  less  than  two  months  from  the  time  I 
took  the  contract,  I  had  a  deed  of  a  farm  costing 
about  $3,000,  built  a  saw-mill  on  it,  and  had  five 
new  mills  running  night  and  day ;  had  twelve  yoke 
of  oxen,  and  several  teams  of  horses  of  my  own,  all 
actively  engaged  in  forwarding  timber  to  the  mills, 
and  a  large  number  of  men  in  the  woods  engaged 
in  preparing  the  timber:  very  soon  I  had  a  large 
store  erected  and  filled  with  goods.  I  then  erected 
a  number  of  shops  for  blacksmiths,  wagon-makers, 
tailors,  &c.,  and  had  them  in  active  operation.  My 
next  move  was  to  build  several  shanties,  furnish 
them  with  men,  tools,  and  provisions,  and  within 
tliree  months  from  (he  date  of  my  contract  all  the 
above  was  accomplished  by  a  stranger  in  a  strange 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIENRV. 


87 


country,  with  a  cajwtal  not  exceeding  $300 !  and 
where  but  a  few  days  before  was  nothing  but  a 
gloomy  wilderness  Wivste,  all  was  now  life  and  busi- 
ness. This  may  indeed  seem  something  like  brag- 
ging, but  yet  it  is  only  a  plain,  literal  representation 
of  fact.  It  really  may  be  surprising  to  my  reader — 
it  is  so  to  myself^ — that  I  could  command,  under 
such  circumstances,  such  unbounded  confidence  and 
credit.  Having  my  troops  thus  orderly  arranged, 
and  the  wliole  machinery  in  liarmonious  operation, 
we  moved  steadily  and  profitably  on  without  one 
jarring  discord,  receiving  an  estimate  every  month 
more  than  enough  to  pay  all  expenses  over  and 
above  the  one-fifth  retained  by  the  State,  until  the 
whole  job  was  about  half  finished. 

The  day  being  appointed  to  receive  the  monthly 
estimate,  all  the  contractors  gathered  together  as 
usual  to  receive  their  money  from  the  superintendent ; 
but,  to  their  astonishment,  they  were  told  by  him 
that  there  was  no  money  in  the  locker.  Here  my 
old  foe,  my  constant  attendant  thus  for,  grown  to  an 
enormous  size  and  most  formidable  in  appearance, 
bolted  once  more  unexpectedly  into  my  path,  and 
really  hideous  were  now  the  features  of  Bad  Luck. 
It  is  said  that  it  is  better  to  be  born  to  good  luck 
than  to  a  great  fortune  ;  but  I  seemed  to  have  been 
born  to  neither.  Indeed,  it  would  seem  that  I  was 
a  legitimate  heir  to  Bad  Luck,  and  that  he  was 
about  to  lavish  on  me  all  his  inheritance;  but  not 
so  in  reality,  for  even  in  this  houriof  trouble  I  might 


yy  TKIALS  ASi)  TKIUMI'HS  IN  THE 

liiive  had  the  consolation  of  the  benevolent  old  wo- 
man, who  thanked  God  that  her  neighboui-s  had  lost 
their  cows  as  well  as  she  hers ;  and  strange  as  it  may 
appear,  it  is  notorious  how  misery  often  seeks  misery, 
as  a  companion  consolatory  in  her  distresses.  Man- 
kind are  very  apt  to  record  blessings  on  the  sand, 
but  misfortunes  on  tables  of  marble.  But  to  judge 
justly,  we  should  weigh  our  troubles  in  one  scale 
and  our  blessings  in  the  other,  and  I  think  we  shall 
have  vastly  more  cause  for  gratitude  than  gi-ief. 
We  should 

"  Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 

But  tnist  him  for  his  grace  ; 
Behind  a  frowning  providence 

He  hides  a  smiling  face." 

I  ask  jJardon  tor  straying  so  far  from  the  direct 
line  of  my  narration.  Let  us  return  to  the  top  of 
the  AUeghanies,  where  we  were  told  by  the  super- 
intendent that  we  must  return  home  without  an 
estimate,  there  to  meet  one  hundred  and  fifty  la- 
bourers and  as  many  farmers  with  their  wives,  each 
presenting  his  bill  and  pressing  his  claim  for  pay- 
ment, telling  the  contractor  that  he  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  sheriff"  or  constable,  and  would  be  thrust  into 
jail  unless  he  could  receive  his  due,  to  meet  his 
liabilities ;  and  then  to  meet  here  and  there  the 
wife  of  an  Irishman,  saying  that  she  bad  "  not  so 
much  as  a  pataty  in  the  house  for  two  days ;"  and 
almost  every  one  presenting  a  diversified  claim — 
tile  poor  contractor,  meantime,  being  forced  to  put 


LIFE  UF  Li.  W.  HENKV. 


89 


tlieiii  off  as  best  he  might  know  how  by  assuiing 
and  convincing  them  against  their  will  that  better 
times  were  just  at  hand,  wliile  one-half  would  get 
drunk  on  the  spur  of  the  disappointment  and  have 
a  row,  and  the  rest  would  curse  their  employer  for 
trying  to  cheat  them  out  of  their  wages. 

Now  a  merchant  or  a  banker  may  fail  for  $50,000, 
and  have  less  trouble  and  occasion  less  noise  about 
it  than  a  contractor  or  any  other  man  who  owes 
$500  in  little  bills  scattered  through  community  and 
who  fails  to  meet  them  promptly ;  and  there  is  as 
mucli  difference  in  the  anguish  experienced  in  these 
two  positions,  as  there  would  be  in  being  blown  to 
atoms  at  the  mouth  of  a  cannon,  or  being  devoured 
by  a  swarm  of  musquitoes. 

But,  saj  s  the  reader,  what  is  the  reason  you  did 
not  get  your  estimate  ?  Hereon  hangs  a  chain  of 
circumstances  pregnant  with  momentous  results. 
From  the  effect  let  us  trace  the  cause.  The  super- 
intendent tells  the  contractor  that  there  is  no  money 
in  his  hands,  giving  as  a  reason  that  there  is  none 
in  the  State  treasury ;  go  to  the  State  treasurer,  and 
he  would  tell  you  that  Pennsylvania,  with  all  her 
boasted  wealth  and  internal  resources,  could  not 
borrow  a  dollar  on  the  State  credit — assigning  as  the 
reason  that  a  war  had  been  proclaimed  by  General 
Jackson,  then  President  of  the  United  States,  and 
his  adherents  against  the  United  States  Bank,  and 
that  that  moneyed  monster  had  shut  its  huge  jaws 
upon  all  moneyed  operations  thraughout  the  Union 


90  TRIALS  ANU  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

— the  Bank  yielding  as  its  apology  for  the  wide- 
spread dismay  and  ruin  it  was  thus  occasioning 
throughout  the  nation  that  the  general  had  with- 
drawn from  its  voracious  maw  the  United  States 
deposits,  and  that  he  and  Biddle  were  already  iu 
battle  array  against  each  other,  the  one  a  candidate 
for  a  reelection  to  the  presidency,  the  other  doing 
desperate  battle  for  a  recharter  of  the  Bank  for 
twenty  years — the  final  issue  to  be  determined  the 
next  year  at  the  ballot-box.  President  Jackson  had 
declared  to  the  people  in  his  messages  his  determined 
and  uncompromising  hostility  to  that  institution, 
setting  forth  its  dangerous  corruptions  and  controlling 
power,  and  thus  bringing  the  issue  definitely  before 
the  people  for  their  determination — either  to  approve 
or  condemn  the  general's  views  and  doings — and 
upon  the  result  of  the  election,  it  Avas  well  under- 
stood, was  suspended  the  fate  of  the  Bank.  And 
in  the  council  of  war  held  by  the  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  bank  party,  Nick  Biddle,  and  his  sub- 
ordinates, it  was  doubtless  resolved  that  coercive 
measures  should  be  resorted  to,  by  which  their 
power  should  be  felt  by  the  people  on  whom  de- 
\olved  the  decision  of  the  strife,  and  thus  to  de- 
monstrate that  the  Bank  had  the  power  as  well  as 
the  disposition  either  to  rule  or  ruin  the  country. 
Therefore  every  country  bank,  as  well  as  every  cotton, 
iron,  or  other  manufacturing  establishment,  indebted 
tu  the  Bank,  it  was  decreed,  should  be  required  forth- 
with to  pay  all  their  dues,  imless  tho  Bank  should 


LIFE  OF  (i.  W.  UEXKV. 


1)1 


be  rechartered.  Consequently  almost  every  country 
bank  was  soon  forced  to  suspend  specie-payments, 
to  cease  to  discount,  and  to  gather  in  their  debts  as 
soon  as  possible — all  trembling  in  fear  of  the  ex- 
asperated monster.  In  regard  to  Pennsylvania,  it 
was  most  likely  resolved  in  the  same  council  that  her 
business  enterprises  should  be  reduced  to  starvation, 
well  knowing  that  her  citizens  were  nearly  two  to 
one  in  ftivour  of  Jackson.  She  was  most  especially 
to  be  "  held  in  durance  vile," — and  so  it  proved ;  for 
she  was  not  able  to  borrow  a  single  dollar  till  after 
the  election  to  paj'  off  her  thousands  of  suffering 
contractors  and  labourers;  consequentl}^  the  man 
that  had  the  most  business  on  hand  was  the  greatest 
sufferer. 

But  I  was  like  a  teamster  that  gets  stalle<l  with 
his  load  in  the  deep  mud-hole,  where  he  finds  it 
easier  to  haul  it  through  by  main  force  than  to  back 
out;  so  I  applied  all  my  energies,  and  forced  my 
job  through  on  my  own  credit  and  the  credit  of  my 
friends,  who  nobly  stood  by  me  in  this  trying  time. 
About  the  time  the  work  was  completed  the  money 
came,  but  not  quite  enough  to  meet  every  demand ; 
for  after  the  money  had  failed  my  business  com- 
manded me,  and  I  had  to  do  as  I  could  and  not  as 
I  would.  Many  pressed  their  claims  so  eagerly, 
tliat  my  farm  and  houses  were  at  length  sold  by  the 
sheriff  at  a  great  sacrifice,  althougli  they  were  bought 
in  by  a  friend  at  something  less  than  ^i9,000.  I 
will  not  detain  the  reader  by  detailing  the  miseries 


92 


TIUALS  AND  TKlUMl'llS  IN  THE 


that  pervaded  the  whole  Hne  to  a  greater  or  less 
extent.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  perplexities  multiplied 
on  every  hand. 

But,  as  I  was  about  remarking,  my  estimate  fell 
short  about  $3,000  of  paying  my  debts ;  and  here 
I  found  myself  again  in  my  old  position  down  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  with  a  burden  of  debt  of  about  three 
thousand  dollars  upon  my  back — a  woful  load  to  at- 
tempt to  climb  with.  And  here  again  I  beset  the 
Pennsylvania  Legislature  by  petition  for  a  claim, 
well  backed  up,  of  ten  thousand  dollars.  I  spent 
the  following  winter  in  importuning  the  legislature. 
I  succeeded  in  obtaining  on  my  lumber  bill  about 
$2,700 — the  other  and  principal  part  of  my  bill  was 
postponed  to  the  next  session.  Here  I  made  a  great 
nustake  in  the  disposition  I  made  of  that  money. 
Instead  of  squaring  up  all  my  debts  and  quitting 
the  place,  I  undertook  to  redeem  my  favourite  place, 
which  had  been  sacrificed  imder  a  forced  sale :  this 
I  did,  hoping  to  receive  the  other  portion  of  my 
claim  now  in  the  hands  of  the  legislature.  So  I  got 
the  place  back  into  my  hands,  with  the  understand- 
ing with  my  creditors  that  their  debts  should  be 
secured  by  the  farm.  I  now  built  in  this  place  a 
large  and  splendid  tavern,  and  fitted  it  up  \vith  every 
needful  accommodation  ;  I  arranged  also  a  capacious 
and  beautiful  garden,  with  swings  and  various  other 
things  to  amuse  and  attract  company.  I  was  soon 
doing  a  smacking  business,  and  daily  breakfasted 
from  fifty  to  a  hundred  passengers,  who  were  cross- 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIENUV.  !);{ 

ing  the  mountains  in  the  cars.  I  had  now  made 
quite  a  spirited  and  business-like  village  at  the  foot 
of  the  Alleghany  Mountains,  four  miles  Avest  of 
Holidaysburgh,  Huntington  County,  Pa.,  on  which 
was  conferred  my  name,  and  it  was  called  Henrys- 
burgh,  and  of  which  I  was  the  postmaster. 

But  a  mighty  change  came  over  the  political  fiice 
of  the  legislature,  which  soon  cast  a  corresponding 
change  "  over  the  spirit  of  my  dreams."  The  Jack- 
son, or  democratic  ranks,  which  had  not  been  broken 
in  that  State  for  twenty  years,  were  now  divided 
among  themselves,  not  as  to  principle,  but  as  to  a 
candidate  for  governor.  Taking  advantage  of  this 
distraction  in  the  democratic  party,  the  whigs  and 
anti-masons  united  and  elected  Joseph  Ritner,  on 
anti-masonic  principles.  The  Board  of  Canal  Com- 
missioners, who  were  my  friends,  and  who  doubtless 
would  have  assisted  me  in  obtaining  my  claim,  were 
turned  out,  to  give  place  to  another  Board,  of  whom 
I  could  expect  anything  in  the  world  but  favours ; 
and  the  same  was  true  of  the  legislature.  Indeed, 
the  State  was,  at  this  time,  so  involved,  that  it  was 
difficult  to  realize  an  undisputed  account.  So  I  lost 
my  principal  bill,  and,  consequently,  was  obliged, 
after  all,  to  assign  everything  I  had  for  the  use  of 
my  creditors.  I  was  now  once  more  entirely  freed 
from  the  encumbrance  of  money  and  business,  and 
I  cast  one  long,  lingering  look  upon  my  favourite 
2)lace,  and  sought  for  a  fortune  elsewhere,  not  in  the 
leafst  discouraged,  promising  myself  great  success  in 

[ 


94 


TRIALS  AND  TRII  MPHS  IN  THE 


my  next  uiiclertaking.  In  view  of  all  this  panting 
of  ambition,  unsuccessful  panting  after  wealth  and 
gTeatness,  who  would  not  acknowledge  that — 

"  He  that  holds  fast  the  golden  mean, 
And  walks  contentedly  between 

The  little  and  the  great, 
Feels  not  the  wants  that  pinch  the  poor, 
Nor  cares  that  haunt  the  rich  man's  door, 

Corrupting  all  his  state." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  reader  was  informed,  in  the  last  chapter,  that 
the  democratic  ranks,  for  the  first  time  in  twenty 
years,  had  been  broken  and  routed,  and  that  the 
whigs  and  anti-masons  held  the  power,  having  at 
their  head  an  automaton  governor  and  a  majority  in 
the  House  of  Assembly ;  but  the  democrats  had  a 
majority  of  two  in  the  Senate,  on  which  the  democ- 
racy relied  as  a  guardian  of  their  cherished  rights. 
It  has  been  said  that  every  man  has  his  price  set 
upon  himself,  and,  th.at  being  offered,  he  is  bought. 
Whether  this  is  so  or  not,  I  will  not  take  it  upon 
myself  to  say ;  but  of  this  I  am  sure,  that  there  is 
too  much  of  that  spirit  amongst  politicians,  if  not 
amongst  others,  that  prompted  Judas  to  say  to  the 
Jews :  "  What  will  you  give  me  and  I  will  deliver 
him  unto  you?"  As  soon  as  this  legislature  had 
become  fairly  organized,  a  bill  was  matured  for  a 


LIFE  OF  U.  W.  HENRY. 


95 


charter  of  a  bank,  to  be  called  the  United  States 
Bank  of  Pennsylvania,  with  a  capital  of  thirty-five 
millions — the  very  same  institution,  in  reality,  that 
had  so  furiously  contended  with  General  Jackson, 
and  that  had  been  twice  so  significantly  condemned 
by  the  people,  in  the  triumphant  reelection  of  the 
old  hero,  and  in  the  elevation  to  the  Presidency  of 
Van  Buren,  who  was  pledged  to  the  same  hostility 
iigainst  the  Bank,  and  that  had  been  still  more  em- 
phatically condemned,  if  possible,  by  Pennsylvania 
hci-self.  Notwithstanding  these  repeated  expressions 
of  popular  will,  the  hydra-headed  monster  was  again 
careering  in  the  field,  taking  a  very  different  course 
from  what  it  had  under  its  former  charter  from  the 
United  States.  Instead  of  applying  the  screws  to 
coerce  obedience,  a  very  opposite  motive  principle 
was  brought  to  bear  by  the  Bank  upon  the  men  of 
influence :  the  question  probably  was,  How  much 
will  you  ask  as  a  consideration  for  voting  for  the 
bill,  offering  a  bonus  of  two  millions  for  the  use  of 
public  works  ?  The  supposed  enemies  of  the  bill 
were  asked  :  "What  do  your  constituents  want  ?  We 
want  a  railroad,  a  turnpike,  a  bridge  in  our  county 
— and  I  want  it  to  accommodate  my  furnace,  mill, 
or  store,  <kc.  By  arrangements  like  these,  Avherein 
the  cupidity  of  men  instead  of  their  patriotism  was 
consulted,  the  proposed  charter  was  hurried  through 
both  branches  of  the  legislature,  and  signed  by  the 
governor,  before  the  people  had  an  o])portunity  to 
remonstrate.    And,  in  order  to  sprinkle  every  indi- 


06 


riilALfj  AND  TllIUMl'HS  IX  TIIK 


\  itliial,  rich  ami  jioor,  with  golden  dew,  one  hundrc<l 
thousand  dollars  a  year,  for  twenty  years,  was  to  be 
contributed  by  the  Bank  as  a  part  of  the  bonus  to 
the  State  for  school  purposes ;  and  thus  was  old 
Pennsylvania  gulled.  Who,  alas !  is  able  to  esti- 
mate the  force  of  a  golden  engine  with  a  motive 
power  of  thirty-five  millions  of  dollars  ?  It  is  able 
to  crush  everything  but  revolutionary  virtue — sub- 
due everything  but  the  invincible  integrity  of  true 
patriotism,  such  as  was  exemplified  in  the  whole 
public  career  of  Old  Hickory.  Now  this  two  million 
bonus  was  not  given  directly  to  the  State,  althougli 
it  was  so  supposed  by  the  mass  of  the  people ;  but 
the  Bank  was  to  subscribe  for  stock  of  all  these  tri- 
fling railroads,  to  run,  if  possible,  to  the  very  door  of 
every  friend  of  the  Bank.  Hence  started  up  numer- 
ous i-ailroad  corporations,  the  Bank  being  the  princi- 
pal subscriber  for  stock. 

This  brought  d  world  of  work  into  market  for 
contractors:  and  here  again  fortune  spread  her 
golden  prospects  before  me,  and  invited  me  to  em- 
bark once  more  in  an  enterprise  for  wealth,  with 
which  invitation  I  readily  complied,  having  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  money  and  a  good 
suit  of  clothes ;  and  I  will  assure  my  reader,  if  good 
clothes  are  ever  necessary  to  recommend  a  man,  it 
is  when  he  is  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  and  out  at  the 
pocket.  To  be  poor  is  bad  enough  in  all  conscience ; 
but  to  be  poor,  and  to  look  poor  at  the  same  time, 
makes  a  bad  matter  considerably  worse.    If  a  man 


LUK  OK  V.  \V.  IIKNUV. 


97 


is  only  known  to  be  ricli  amongst  his  neighbours  or 
in  tlie  community  where  he  lives,  any  kind  of  rags 
will  look  well — nay,  they  \n\\  almost  be  regarded  as 
oruaments  upon  him  ;  and  thus  many  rich  men  are 
])rouder  in  rags  than  in  fine  clodies.  But  clothes  do 
much  to  give  a  man  position  and  credit  among  men  ; 
as  Df.  Young  has  said  : — 

"  Fools  indeed  drop  the  man  iu  their  account, 
And  vote  tlie  mantle  into  majesty." 

Amongst  other  railroads,  there  was  one  laid  out 
l  uniiing  from  Harrisburgh  to  Hagei-stown,  in  Marj-- 
land,  a  distance  of  seventy  miles,  through  what  is 
known  as  the  Cumberland  Valley,  lying  between  the 
north  and  south  mountain.  This  valley  contains 
the  richest  limestone-land  in  the  United  States, 
luider  a  high  state  of  cultivation.  Here  the  northern 
man,  as  he  passes  through  this  beautiful  valle\', 
feasting  his  eyes  on  tliose  splendid  and  magnificent 
farms  that  lie  on  either  side,  cultiv^ed  with  taste 
and  decorated  with  stately  and  neatly-finished  brick 
or  stone  bams,  is  filled  with  admiration. 

There  were  two  distinct  companies  incorporated 
to  construct  this  road,  one  called  the  Cumberland, 
and  the  other  the  Franklui  Railroad  Company — the 
latter  crossing  over  into  Maryland.  I  contracteil 
with  the  Franklin  Company  to  furnish  all  the  timber 
requiretl  on  that  road,  and  to  make  a  part  of  the 
track.  Here  I  again  found  myself  in  business  to  my 
heart's  content.    I  put  in  operation  twenty  or  thirty 


TKIAL8  AND  TKILMI'IIS  IN  THK 

saw-iuills,  bought  a  tract  of  land,  and  built  a  steam 
saw-mill  thereon — and  everything  was  now  moving 
on  gaily,  and  success  seemed  certain.  But  bad  luck, 
to  the  man  proscribed  by  fate,  as  death  to  the 
devotee  of  pleasure, 

"  Like  a  staunch  murderer,  steady  to  his  purpose, 
Pursues  him  close  through  every  lane  of  life, 
Nor  misses  once  the  track." 

So  here,  as  heretofore,  I  was  confronted  by  my  old 
familiar  foe.  What  is  wrong  now,  do  you  ask? 
Why,  nothing  more  than  that  the  huge  monster 
had  again  shut  his  destroying  jaws — Biddle's 
"  Great  Regulator,"  the  United  States  Bank  of 
Pennsylvania,  had  suspended  specie  payments,  and 
every  country  bank  followed  suit,  and  refused  to  dis- 
count— the  gold  of  the  country  was  cankered  and 
the  paper  moth-eaten — the  currency  of  the  country 
was  worse  than  mildewed  and  corrupted — every 
business  man,  and  eveiy  little,  contemptible,  irre- 
sponsible corporation  was  forced  to  issue  "  shin-plas- 
ters," or  they  did  the  same  for  gain,  and  thus  the 
poor  contractor  on  the  public  works  was  doomed  to 
embarrassments  and  miseries  like  those  of  the  former 
])anic,  when  the  deposits  were  removed. 

But  to  dispose  of  a  long  storj'  as  briefly  as  may 
bo,  it  shall  suffice  to  say  that  I  finished  the  contract 
through  all  these  troubles,  sued  the  corporation  for 
the  balance  due  to  me ;  and  we  have  at  this  very 
day  a  judgment  against  them,  on  the  record  of  the 
Hagerstown  court,  for  thirty-three  hundred  dollai-s. 


LIFE  OK  ti.  \V.  HENRV. 


99 


At  the  time  judgment  was  obtained,  tlie  "  Great 
Regulator  "  had  smashed — her  bills  worth  only  four 
cents  on  the  dollar ;  and  I  do  not  know  that  I  could 
get  this  day  ten  dollars  for  the  above  judgment. 
At  the  same  time  that  I  had  the  Franklin  contract, 
I  had  also  a  contract  with  the  Tide -Water  Canal 
Company,  to  furnish  locust  timber  for  forty-five 
miles  of  said  canal,  and  I  performed  it,  and  made 
money  in  the  operation.  But  this  company,  im- 
mediately after,  failed,  and  was  not  able  to  redeem 
its  scrip,  which  had  flooded  the  country,  and  of 
which  my  father-in-law  allowed  $1,000  to  die  in  his 
hands.  Mr.  Biddle's  bank  was  a  large  stockholder 
in  this  canal. 

During  this  period,  or  rather  previous  to  it,  I 
furnished  a  large  quantity  of  locust  timber  for  the 
city  of  Philadelphia  and  that  neighbourhood.  But 
I  will  not  trouble  the  reader  with  any  of  my  small, 
commonplace  business  operations. 

About  these  days  there  was  another  letting  of 
work,  by  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal  Company, 
bordering  on  the  Potomac  river.  The  letting  was 
in  the  city  of  Washington.  My  reputation  as  a 
thorough-going  contractor  was  known  to  that  com- 
pany,— that  when  I  began  a  job  there  was  no  back- 
ing out  till  it  was  finished.  I  could,  therefore,  compete 
for  work  with  any  contractor  in  the  United  States ; 
and  there  was  allotted  to  me,  by  this  company,  about 
forty  thousand  dollars  worth  of  work.  I  suppose 
I  have  already  wearied  the  i)atience  of  my  kind 


100  TRIALS  AiND  TRIIMIMIS  IN  THE 

1-cader,  in  leading  him  through  the  labyrinth  of 
niy  troubles  and  reverses — and  you  have  probably 
already  said,  Deliver  me  from  the  life  of  a  contractor. 
I  shall,  therefore,  be  as  brief  as  possible.  Suffice  it 
to  say,  that  this  contract  was  finished  in  due  time 
and  in  good  order,  and  the  final  estimate  was  ready 
to  be  drawn.  My  j^artner,  who  then  lived  at  the 
south,  resolved  to  cheat  me  out  of  my  share.  I 
anticipated  his  wicked  designs,  and  attached  the 
estimate,  which  was  $5,800,  payable  in  canal  scrip, 
which  was  then  nearly  at  par.  This  hung  the  money 
up  in  the  hands  of  the  Commissioner,  so  that  neither 
could  receive  it  without  mutual  consent,  or  till  the 
decision  of  the  Court  of  Chancery.  I  2>i"oposed  to 
him,  at  the  same  time,  to  leave  it  out  to  any  three 
men  to  settle  for  us,  and  we  to  abide  the  result. 
But  he,  in  league  with  his  lawyer  and  the  Canal 
Commissioner  that  held  the  money,  chose  to  fight 
it  out.  Although  contrary  to  the  order  of  court, 
they  divided  a  portion  of  the  money  among  them- 
selves, to  gamble  and  shave  with,  and  to  war  with 
me  until  the  court  should  decide  in  my  favour,  as 
they  could  have  no  reason  to  doubt  would  be  the 
case,  for  the  case  was  so  palpable  and  plain.  Here 
was  probably  as  unholy  a  trio  of  infidel  blacklegs 
as  were  ever  leagued  together — having  my  own 
money  in  their  hands  to  war  against  me  with  in  my 
weakness  and  embarrassment.  I  filed  my  bill  in 
the  case,  and  he  his  answer,  diametrically  opposite  to 
each  other,  and  yet  each  making  solemn  oath  to  the 


101 


truth  of  the  facts  set  forth  iu  his  bill  and  answer — 
whereas  one  or  the  other  must  be  false  in  the  sight 
of  God  and  man,  and,  consequently,  one  or  the  other 
of  us  committed  deliberate,  wilful,  and  corrupt  per- 
jury, and,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  land,  was  a 
fit  candidate  for  the  penitentiary.  So  here  was 
character,  as  well  as  money,  at  stake.  ]3ut,  after 
contending  three  years,  the  suit  was  at  length  decided 
by  the  Court  of  Errors,  at  Annapolis,  in  my  favour. 

Now,  reader,  I  liave  said  that  either  the  author 
or  his  antagonist  swore  false,  and  that  wilfully  and 
corruptly.  You  will  never  know  which  it  was — 
you  need  not  know  which  it  was — until  that  great 
day,  wlien  all  things  shall  be  revealed,  and  passed 
upon  by  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth,  who  will  surely 
judge  right.  Earthly  tribunals  may,  indeed,  bo 
properly  enough  styled  courts  of  error,  for  they  often 
gi\'e  erroneous  judgments,  and  the  innocent  sufter. 
But  it  is  a  matter  of  joy  to  my  heart,  that  we  are 
not  to  be  judged  at  the  last  by  the  feeble  and  foggy 
understanding  of  an  earthly  judge,  and  that  all  false 
witnesses  will  be  silent  there.  Men  may  go  through 
the  world  "unwhipped  of  justice,"  but,  behold,  at 
the  last  all  shall  have  tlieir  reward.  All  the  other 
troubles  and  anguish  of  my  whole  life,  from  my 
cradle  to  the  moment  of  writing  this  narrative, 
(and  I  think  I  have  had  my  share,)  taken  together, 
would  be  but  as  the  dust  in  the  balance  compared 
with  what  I  endured  in  this  sad  affair — of  all  the 
other  wounds  ever  inflicted  upon  me,  there  was  none 


102 


TlilAI.S  AXI)  TRILMPHS  IN  THE 


SO  sore  as  tliis.  Like  David,  I  was  wounded  in  the 
liouse  of  ray  friends.  Had  an  enemy  done  this,  I 
could  have  borne  it — ^but  it  was  one  tliat  had  eaten 
of  my  bread ;  it  was  one — but  then  the  ties  of  con- 
sanguinity ai-e  frailer  than  the  spider's  web  to  one 
who  can  violate  the  sacred  obligations  of  hospitality 
without  remorse — in  whose  unmanly  bosom  every 
sentiment  of  gratitude  is  extinct. 

This  was  a  contest  of  three  years'  duration. 
During  this  time  the  canal  money,  which  was  the 
kind  of  money  attached,  was  depreciated  down  to 
seventeen  cents  on  a  dollar.  This  I  consigned  for  the 
benefit  of  my  creditors,  a  fraction  of  the  $18,000 
rotten  debts  which  I  gave  to  pay  $8,250  that  I 
owed.  When  he  came  on  to  the  job  he  was  not 
worth  one  hundred  dollars,  but  is  now,  I  presume, 
worth  four  thousand,  Avhile  I  am  as  I  am.  Never- 
theless I  am  happy  and  content.  I  envy  him  not, 
nor  would  I  injure  him  ;  I  pray  that  he  may  repent, 
if  he  has  not  repented  of  the  great  wrong,  and  that 
God  may  forgive  him, — I  have,  from  my  heart. 
Gladly  would  I  have  passed  over  this  incident  in 
silence,  on  account  of  associations  and  peculiar 
circumstances,  but  I  have  undertaken  to  write  a 
history  of  my  life,  and  I  cannot  pass  over  an  event 
so  important,  which  had  so  great  an  influence  upon 
my  feelings  and  fortune,  without  giving  it  a  place 
in  as  few  words  as  possible.  And  this  is  the  last 
contract  of  this  nature  that  I  shall  speak  of  but  one, 
and  that  I  shall  defer  to  the  latter  part  of  this  work, 


I. IKK  OK  (;.  \V.  lIKNltV.  10;{ 

in  onlei-  to  introJuce  in  their  i)i-opor  jjlace  my 
spiritual  life  and  temporal  blindness. 

And  now,  my  dear  reader,  before  resuming  the 
direct  thread  of  my  narrative,  let  us  take  a  retrospect 
of  the  ground  over  which  we  have  travelled.  We 
sec  that  from  the  time  I  entered  upon  the  full  tide 
of  my  business  life,  fate  seemed  to  prescribe  the 
path  for  me  to  pui-sue,  with  the  settled  determina- 
tion that  I  should  not  obtain  the  great  object  of  my 
panting  ambition — wealth  and  independence  ;  for 
we  have  seen  that  none  of  my  important  contracts 
have  ended  well,  although  no  mortal  eye  could  have 
perceived  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  although 
no  material  fault  of  mine  seemed  to  characterize  the 
execution  of  them — Bad  Luck  seemed  to  play  a 
conspicuous  part  in  them  all.  I  think  you  cannot 
say  but  that  I  have  tried  hard  enough,  and  ways 
enough  to  have  obtained  a  fortune,  if  it  had  been 
for  me, — that  is,  if  sujierabundancc  of  this  world's 
goods  may  be  regarded  a  fortune.  Almost  any 
man  may  look  back  over  his  past  life  and  see  many 
mistakes  that  he  has  made,  but  that  he  was  too 
short-sighted  to  perceive  before  he  committed  them. 
The  truth  is,  we  know  not,  the  wisest  of  us,  what 
a  day  may  bring  forth.  My  first  contract  ended  in 
a  blaze  from  a  dormant  spark  in  a  coal  brand  that 
lay  hid  from  luiman  observation.  Many  of  my 
other  enterprises  were  frustrated  by  my  frequent 
loss  of  eye-sight,  and  my  consequent  heavy  ex- 
penses— a  most  grievous  misfortune,  it  seemed  <at 


104  iltlAI.S  AND  THU  MIMIS  IN  Till; 

tlic  time.  The  pulling  down  of  my  lock  was  a  direful 
blow  to  my  prosperity,  which  could  not  have  been 
an  ticipat'ed.  But  the  principal  cause  of  my  failures 
and  calamities  in  business,  was  the  rotten  currency 
jiroduced  indirectly  by  the  Bank  of  the  United  States. 
Xo  one  could  have  anticipated  that  she,  with  her 
boasted  capital  of  thirty-five  millions,  could  have 
failed  to  redeem  her  pledges ;  for,  while  she  was  con- 
sidered to  be  corrupt,  both  friends  and  foes  regarded 
her  solvent.  How  little  did  I  dream  of  losing,  in  the 
manner  I  did,  such  a  vast  amount  on  the  Chesa- 
])eake  and  Ohio  Canal.  All  these  things  were  un- 
seen and  unexpected.  But  then  we  must  not  for- 
get the  uncertainty  of  all  human  calculations ;  and 
so  it  was,  and  so  let  it  be.  I  sincerely  hope  that 
my  aspiring  young  readere  will  have  discovered 
how  dangerous  it  is  to  attempt  to  climb  ambition's 
ladder,  the  rounds  of  which  are  many  of  them  frailer 
than  a  spider's  web,  and  will  precipitate  the  aspirant 
headlong  to  the  earth,  in  a  moment  when  success 
seems  most  certain.  Ambition  for  earthly  wealth, 
power  or  renown,  is  beneath  man's  true  dignity. 

"  And  chase  we  still  the  phantom  through  the  fire, 

O'er  bog,  and  brake,  and  precipice,  till  death  ? 

And  toil  we  still  for  sublunary  pay  ? 

Defy  the  dangers  of  the  field  and  flood, 

Or,  spider-like,  spin  out  our  jn-ecious  all. 

Our  more  than  vitals  spin  (if  no  regard 

To  great  futurity)  in  curious  webs 

Of  subtle  thought  and  exquisite  design, 

(Fine  network  of  the  brain !)  to  catch  a  fly ! 


LIFE  OF  O.  \V.  HENRY. 


105 


The  momeutavy  buzz  of  vain  renown  ! 
A  name  I  a  mortal  immortality  ! 

Or  (meaner  still)  instead  of  grasping  air, 
For  sordid  lucre  plunge  we  in  the  mire ! 
Drudge,  sweat,  through  every  shame,  for  every  gain, 
I'or  vile  contaminating  trash — tlirow  up 
Our  hope  in  heaven,  our  dignity  with  man. 
And  deify  the  dirt  matured  to  gold  ? 
Ambition,  Avarice,  the  two  demons  these 
Which  goad  through  every  slough  our  human  herd. 
Hard  travelled  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 
How  low  the  wretches  stoop !  how  steep  they  climb ! 
These  demons  biu-n  mankind — and  once  possess 
The  young  man's  bosom,  they  turn  out  the  skies." 

Before  closing  this  chapter,  I  have  a  single  im- 
portant piece  of  business  to  speak  of,  which  I  was 
not  permitted  to  introduce  in  its  proper  place,  on 
account  of  a  press  of  much  grosser  operations  which 
demanded  our  attention.  It  may  have  been  sup- 
]X)sed,  from  the  lugubrious  aspect  of  my  business 
undertakings,  that  all  my  contracts  were  doomed 
to  be  disastrous ;  and  it  may  have  seemed  that  rail- 
roads, and  canals,  and  lumbering,  and  building 
houses  and  mills  engrossed  my  whole  attention, 
and  left  no  room  for  gentler  matters.  But  not  so, 
my  friends.  That  rich  Cumberland  Valley,  which 
I  have  told  you  contained  those  wide-spreading 
and  luxuriant  farms,  studded  with  magnificent  brick 
and  stone  dwellings  and  barns,  contained  also,  I  did 
not  tell  you  how  many  or  how  lovely  young  ladies, 
that  were  enough  to  move  the  heart  of  any  man. 
and  especially  of  a  "lady's  man,"  (as  T  have  been 
described,)  to  tenderness,  an<l  to  compete  with  rail- 


100  TRIALS  AXI)  TUIIIMI'HS  IN  TIIK 

roads  and  canals  for  a  share  of  his  attention. 
You  have  already  seen,  in  the  earlier  part  of  my 
history,  that  I  was  not  in  the  least  tinctured  with  a 
monkish  indifference  to  those  gentle  creatures  whom 
Byron  would  call  "  the  precious  porcelain  of  human 
clay."  Nay,  truly  I  could  say,  ^\^th  Hudibras, 
when  railroads  and  canals,  and  steana  saw-mills, 
and  lumbering,  were  making  me  as  busy  a.s  a 
general  at  the  head  of  his  army,  and  even  when 
fortune  was  lowering  upon  me  her  bitterest  frowns : 

"  Quoth  he,  '  To  bid  me  not  to  love, 
Is  to  forbid  my  jjulse  to  move, 
My  beard  to  grow,  my  ears  to  stick  up. 
Or  when  I'm  in  a  fit  to  hiccup.'  " 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  my  engagements  on  the 
Franklin  Railroad,  in  1837,  that  I  became  acquaint- 
ed with  Miss  Susan  C.  Brown,  of  one  of  the  most 
ancient  families  of  Franklin  County,  Pa.  Her 
father  was  then  living  on  the  farm  of  his  nativity, 
located  in  this  lovely  Cumberland  Valley,  which  had 
been  taken  up  in  a  state  of  nature  by  his  grand- 
father, a  hundred  and  fourteen  years  before,  and  it 
continued  in  the  family  down  to  the  time  of  her 
Other's  death,  which  occurred  about  three  years 
ago.  Nearly  twenty  years  had  now  passed,  since  my 
first  adventure  in  the  courting  line,  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  what  is  called  "  single  blessedness."  I  had 
often  heard  it  said  that  matches  were  made  in 
heaven  ;  but  from  many  domestic  exhibitions  I  had 
witnessed  in  the  course  of  my  life,  I  had  concluded 


I.IKK  OF  a.  W.  HENRY. 


107 


that  many  matches  were  made  in  tliat  other  place. 
The  fact  is,  matrimony  is  mucli  like  Jeremiah's  figs, 
— it  is  either  passing  sweet,  or  too  sour  to  be  endur- 
ed. But,  nevertheless,  I  soon  found  my  heart  right 
seriously  involved  with  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Brown, 
and  fully  resolved  to  forswear  a  life  of  celibacy,  for 
she  seemed  the  one  by  Heaven  designed  to  make 
me  happy.  The  preliminaries  and  negotiation  of 
contract  (which  it  is  needless  to  say  more  of  than 
that  they  were  done  up  in  the  most  business-like 
manner,  accompanied  with  all  the  palpitation  of 
heart  and  refusal  of  the  tongue  to  perform  its  office, 
which  usually  charactenze  this  sort  of  negotiations, 
where  true  sentiment  is  involved,)  occupied  a  space 
of  time  of  about  six  montlis,  when  at  length  the 
treaty  of  alliance  was  signed,  sealed  and  delivered, 
and  duly  ratified  on  the  morning  of  the  5th  of  June, 
1838,  in  Mr.  Brown's  large  stone  mansion,  in  the 
presence  of  a  large  number  of  friends.  We  imme- 
diately came  to  the  north  to  visit  my  friends,  and 
soon  returned  to  the  south,  where  we  continued  till 
about  a  year  and  a  half  since,  which  will  hereafter 
be  spoken  of.  Though  my  other  engagements 
were  most  of  them  disastrous  in  the  end,  this,  I 
thank  God,  has  been  fortunate.  Fortune  may  have 
frowned  upon  my  worldly  prospects,  but  Heaven 
blessed  me  with  a  wife.  Surely, 

"  Man's  fate  and  favours  are  a  theme  in  heaven." 
Here  I  have  a  little  bank  of  affection  and  love,  that 


108  TRIALS  AND  TRIl'MniS  IN  THK 

lias  never  ceased  to  discount  In  the  hour  of  affliction 
and  woe.  Indeed,  in  the  tinae  of  the  darkest  trials, 
there  are  no  panics  and  suspending  of  specie-pay- 
ments, but  it  is  then  that  my  drafts,  if  possible,  are 
most  readily  and  liberally  honoured.  Such  a  cor- 
jjoration  as  this  I  am  bound  to  support  while  life 
shall  last.  Woman  I  thy  afl'ections  are  exhaustless ! 
the  chain  of  thy  love  adversity  but  renders  stronger 
— death  itself  cannot  sever  it !  Thou  art  a  minis- 
tering angel,  in  mercy  sent  to  cheer  our  pathway 
through  the  gloom  of  life. 

Here  ended  my  courtships  and  flirtations  with 
the  ladies,  and  here  let  us  end  this  chapter. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

In  introducing  my  spiritual  lite  and  experience,  it 
becomes  necessary  to  speak  of  one  more  and  the 
last  contract  I  had  on  the  jjublic  works.  This  end- 
ed in  my  temporal  blindness,  and  the  beginning  of 
some  of  the  special  providences  of  God  which 
brought  me  from  nature's  darkness  to  his  most 
marvellous  light.  Gladly  would  I  have  placed  all 
the  affairs  of  my  contracts,  and  temporal  transac- 
tions, in  the  pre\  ious  part  of  this  work ;  but  as  it  is 
so  blended  with  my  sjiiritual  life,  I  am  obliged  to 
make  use  of  this  contract  as  a  link  imiting  my 
temporal  and  spiritual  experience.    Glad  shall  I  l)o 


LIFE  OF  ti.  W.  HENKV.  lOU 

when  ray  mind  is  relieved  from  gathering  up  tlie 
incidents  and  accidents  that  happened  to  me  on 
public  works,  and  when  it  may  dwell  uninterrupt- 
edly on  serious  subjects.  And  may  the  Comforter, 
which  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  teach  me  in  all  things,  and 
bring  all  things  to  my  remembrance  whatsoever  he 
hath  spoken  unto  me.    (John  xiv,  26.) 

I  was  just  now  drifted  ashore  again  on  a  mere 
floating-plank,  hanng  lost,  by  the  Franklin  Railroad 
and  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Canal,  between  five 
and  si.x  thousand  dollai-s.  Here,  then,  being  offered 
in  market,  by  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Raili-oad 
Company  for  contract,  one  hundred  miles  of  road, 
or  six  million  feet  of  timber,  to  be  delivered  on  the 
northern  limits  of  Virginia,  I  at  once  contracted 
with  them  to  furnish  forty  miles  of  said  road,  com- 
mencing at  the  United  States  Arsenal  and  running 
westward.  This  amounted  to  about  two  millions 
and  a  half  feet.  Soon  after  I  also  contracted  with 
the  same  company  to  fimiish  two  hundred  thousand 
tree  nails,  or  wooden  pins,  one  foot  long  and  eight 
square.  I  agreed  to  take  scrip,  issued  on  a  loan 
from  the  city  of  Baltimore,  which  was  then  the  cir- 
culating medium  of  that  country.  It  was  a  rare 
thing  in  those  days  to  see  a  bank  note,  and  with 
much  difficulty  the  citizens  procured  specie  suffi- 
cient to  pay  their  postage,  which  was,  however, 
rigidly  demanded  by  the  Postmaster-General.  T  had 
also  agreed  to  do  this  gi-eat  work  in  the  short  space 
of  eight  months.    The  reader  will  here  perceive 


110 


TRIALS  AN0  TKlUMPlIti  IS  TUK 


that  amongst  all  my  imperfections,  and  the  many- 
wrecks  I  endured,  I  maintained  my  character  as  an 
enterprising  contractor  and  an  honest  man.  The 
reader  ■will  also  pardon  me  for  fishing  out  this  one 
compliment,  inasmuch  as  I  have  said  so  many  hard 
things  against  myself — for  I  will  assure  him  that 
every  scrub  cannot  procure  a  contract  of  such  mag- 
nitude, and  especially  without  much  capital. 

It  is  an  old  saying,  that  a  man's  character,  like 
his  shadow,  will  always  be  present  with  him,  and 
often  in  advance,  prefiguring  the  man,  especially  if 
there  is  anything  mean  about  him.  But  I  presume 
I  have  often  found  a  greater  share  of  confidence 
with  the  public  than  I  was  entitled  to;  and  it  is 
noAv  a  wonder  to  me  how  I  should  be  able  to  set  so 
much  work  into  immediate  operation  with  means 
so  limited.  But  I  entered  into  this,  as  heretofore, 
in  the  full  belief  that  there  was  a  fortune  of  money 
at  the  end  of  the  job,  which,  according  to  contract, 
would  be  reached  in  a  few  months.  Accordingly,  I 
set  many  mills  in  operation,  within  the  three  differ- 
ent States,  for  the  purpose  of  sawing  timber.  I 
then  proceeded  to  Morgan  County,  Virginia,  a 
mountainous  and  almost  solitary  region,  bought  a 
large  quantity  of  well-timbered  land,  and  proceeded 
to  build  a  steam  saw-mill  on  it.  There  was  not  a 
school-house,  or  a  place  of  public  worship  within 
ten  miles  of  it,  except  one  clmrch  in  Maryland,  and 
ouly  here  and  there  could  be  seen  a  miserable  log 
cabin.    But,  solitary  as  it  was,  in  the  short  space  of 


LljeE  OF  Ci.  W.  HENRY. 


Ill 


five  weeks  I  had  one  of  the  most  splendid  steam  saw- 
mills I  ever  saw,  with  three  sets  of  saws  in  active 
operation,  and  far  exceeding  the  steam  mills  I  built 
in  Maryland.  In  addition  to  this,  I  had  put  up  a 
dwelling-house,  shanties,  stables,  etc. ;  and  where, 
but  a  few  days  before,  was  the  solitary  retreat  of  the 
deer  and  other  wild  animals,  now  was  heard,  both 
night  and  day,  the  puffing  of  a  steam-engine,  and 
the  teeth  of  the  greedy  saws,  devouring  and  divid- 
ing the  stately  old  oak  that  for  centuries  had  been 
unmolested.  Although  this  appeared  as  a  magic 
scene,  sprung  up  in  a  day,  I  will  assure  my  reader 
that  it  was  not  brought  about  without  untiring  in- 
dustiy,  and  not  without  many  difficulties,  which  I 
need  not  here  relate. 

It  was  now  late  one  Saturday  evening,  in  the 
month  of  August,  1841,  that  my  mill  had  been 
faithfully  tried  during  the  day,  and  had  given  great 
satisfaction  to  all  that  witnessed  its  operation. 

Now  the  birds  had  all  gone  to  their  rest, 

The  deer  and  the  owl  and  the  bear, 
And  the  men,  with  repose  to  be  blest, 

Did  all  to  their  shanty  repair. 

But  my  heart  was  filled  with  delight  as  I  conversed 
mth  my  principal  machinist.  General  Crosby,  of 
New- York,  who  expected  to  leave  the  Monday  after 
for  home,  having  finished  his  work.  I  think  I  ad- 
dressed him  in  nearly  these  words :  "  Now,  general, 
I  have  this  mill  in  the  most  siiccessful  operation,  my 
family  are  safely  housed,  and  everything  is  going  on 


112  TIUALS  AND  TlULMPHa  IN  THE 


just  to  suit  me."  Vessels  were  coming  in  from 
Port  Deposit,  landing  timber  at  D.  C,  preparatoiy 
for  the' reception  by  the  canal  boats  to  carry  it  to  itH 
destination.  All  other  mills,  and  everything  around 
me  seemed  ready,  like  the  ships  of  Solomon,  to 
bring  treasure  into  my  pocket.  And  truly  it  was 
no  vain  picture.  Though,  in  taking  a  retrospect  of 
the  past,  many  shipwrecks  and  disappointed  hopes 
were  brought  to  my  mind,  yet  all  seemed  now 
prosperous.  But  I  could  not  see  the  invisible  hand 
of  Providence,  that  was  then  already  attaching 
wings  to  my  glowing  prospects.  To  all  human  ap- 
pearance an  independent  fortune  was  almost  within 
my  grasp.  Four  months,  at  most,  -would  bring  me 
into  the  possession  of  it. 

"  On  each  condition  disappointments  M  ait, 
Enter  the  hut  and  force  the  guarded  gate." 

But  before  we  retired  to  rest,  it  was  resolved  (hat  on 
the  morrow  we  should  take  a  i-ide,  not  to  the  house 
of  worship,  but  to  the  fashionable  scene  of  banquet- 
ing and  revelry  at  Berkley  Mineral  Springs.  These 
springs,  the  Saratoga  of  Virginia,  were  at  the  dis- 
tance of  about  eleven  miles.  The  holy  Sabbath 
morning  came,  and  all  preparations  were  made  to 
cut  as  respectable  a  swell  as  possible.  While  break- 
fast was  getting  ready,  I  Avashed  off  my  carriage 
and  g.ave  directions  to  have  a  pair  of  well-mated 
horses  harnessed  in  order  for  the  occasion. 

Perhaps,  in  this  part  of  my  journal,  it  would  be 
well  to  ac<iuaiiit  the  reader  with  some  of  my  moral 


i.irv:  OK  «;.  w.  iiknkv. 


an<l  religious  notions,  that  liad  t'ollowal  me  tlirongli 
life,  while  doing  the  work  of  a  Gentile.  I  think  I 
must  have  been  about  thirteen  years  old  when  my 
mother  was  converted  and  united  with  the  Metho- 
dist Episcopal  Churcli.  Soon  after,  several  of  my 
kinsmen  and  neighboui-s  were  happily  converted  to 
God,  and  united  with  the  same  Church.  There  was 
also  a  reformation,  or  an  excitement,  among  the 
little  boys  and  girls,  and  I  was  in  the  number. 
Many  of  us  were  serious,  and  instead  of  playing  at 
noon  at  school,  we  would  retire  to  the  forest  or  to  a 
baru  and  hold  a  prayer-meeting.  At  meetings,  I 
would  weep  and  be  melted  into  tenderness.  I  was 
very  particular  every  night  and  morning,  as  I  went 
to  fodder  the  cattle,  to  kneel  down  on  the  hay-mow 
and  pray.  I  pursued  this  course  about  two  months. 
About  this  time  some  of  my  cousins  of  my  age 
came  from  a  distance  to  see  us.  Accordingly  there 
was  a  party  made  by  Mrs.  James  Campbell,  of 
Litchfield,  for  the  little  boys  and  giris.  It  was  to  be 
at  her  house  on  a  certain  evening.  I  was  among  the 
number  that  met  there,  and  was  so  delighted  with 
the  society  that  I  neglected  to  kneel  that  night  in 
prayer.  The  next  morning  I  had  still  less  disposi- 
tion to  bend  the  knee ;  and  from  that  time  I  do  not 
think  I  offered  up  a  single  prayer  to  God  until  I 
was  forty  years  old,  except  in  case  of  a  thunder- 
storm. But  at  such  times,  no  sooner  had  the  thun- 
der ceased  than  prayer  was  laid  aside,  and  all  serious 
thoughts  ami  promises  vanished  with  the  clouds.  I 


I  14  riilAI.S  AM)  Tlill  M1'H8  IN  TIIK 


ilo  not  think  that  I  liad  any  religion  or  my  change 
of  heart  at  that  time,  but  I  was  serious  and  con- 
victed of  sin.  These  impressions  were  written  upon 
my  lieart  while  it  was  yet  tender,  but  afterwards 
gradually  wore  off — measurably  at  least.  In  after 
yeai-s  I  frequently  attended  quarterly  meetings  and 
camp-meetings,  where  I  witnessed  mighty  displays 
of  the  power  of  God.  I  saw  many  stout-hearted 
sinnei-s  brought  prostrate  to  the  eartli.  I  had  no 
<loubt  then,  neither  have  I  ever  entertained  any 
since,  that  it  was  the  power  of  God  manifested  in 
thein.  1  always  believed  in  the  reality  of  religion, 
and  in  the  necessity  of  a  change  of  heart  from 
nature  to  grace.  I  had  also  a  historical  faith  in  the 
great  scheme  of  human  redemption  and  salvation 
through  Jesus  Christ.  In  short,  I  was  a  Metliodist 
in  theory,  though  very  far  from  being  one  in  prac- 
tice. I  always  pretended  to  regard  the  Sabbath, 
and  seldom  did  any  business  on  that  holy  day. 

I  advocated  Methodist  doctrine  when  I  had  any- 
thing to  say  about  it.  My  knowledge  of  the 
Bible  was  very  limited,  as  I  but  seldom  read  it.  I 
had  committed  to  memory  a  few  disconnected  pas- 
sages of  Scripture,  merely  for  purposes  of  argument, 
but  could  not  tell  where  any  of  them  were  recorded. 
1  was  always  pleased  to  see  Christians  walk  up- 
rightly, and  hated  to  see  any  one  backslide.  My 
principal  reading  was  the  politics  of  the  day.  When 
about  sixteen  years  old,  I  heard  Lorenzo  Dow  preach 
at  a  camp-meeting,  from  Eccl.  xi,  9 ;  and  the  text 


LIFK  OF  (f.  W.  HEXRV. 


115 


was  stamped  on  my  mind,  never  to  be  forgotten. 
It  was  on  Sunday  afternoon  that  Dow  presented 
liiniself  on  the  stand,  and,  after  looking  around  upon 
the  congregation,  exclaimed  with  an  audible  voice, 
"There  are  about  seven  thousand  persons  Avithin 
this  camp  circle,  besides  rag-tag  and  bob-tail  that 
are  on  the  outside."  This  eccentric  remark  made 
him  the  centre  of  all  the  eyes  on  the  ground  at 
once.  He  then  read  a  part  of  his  text :  "  Rejoice, 
O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer 
tliee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  and  walk  in  the  ways 
of  thy  heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  thine  eyes."  He 
then  proceeded  to  tell  the  yoinig  people  to  let  their 
heart  cheer  them.  If  they  preferred  gambling, 
horse-racing,  getting  drunk,  to  coming  into  the  altar 
and  worshipping  God,  they  should  go  on,  if  this 
conduct  cheered  their  hearts,  and  walk  in  the  sight 
of  their  own  eyes.  "  Certainly  you  have  Scripture 
to  support  you."  And  to  the  young  women  he 
said,  "If  your  heart  is  cheered  more  in  the  ball- 
room than  in  the  prayer-meeting,  go  on — let  it 
cheer  you.  Or,  if  you  love  the  vanities  of  the  world 
more  than  religion,  my  text  tells  you  to  walk  in  the 
sight  of  your  own  eyes."  So  he  proceeded,  till  all 
eyes  and  ears  were  fixed  upon  him.  I  was  de- 
lighted with  him,  as  well  as  all  the  wicked  that  had 
gathered  around.  "  Ah !"  said  I,  "  this  is  the  kind 
of  preaching  to  suit  me ;  and  the  best  of  all  is,  that 
he  has  got  Scripture  to  prove  it.  There  is  no  harm 
for  the  youth  to  indulge  in  all  those  things."  While 


1  Ui  IIUALS  AND  TRIUMniS  IN  THE 


the  old  professors  looked  strange  at  him,  all  the 
wicked  were  delighted. 

Here  he  stopped  short,  took  up  «  chair  that  Avas 
on  the  stand,  dashed  it  down  two  or  three  times  on 
the  board  before  hira,  and  then  set  it  in  its  place 
again.  Candlesticks,  preachers'  hats,  &c.,  were 
knocked  off  on  the  ground  or  floor.  Then  he  called 
out,  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  two  or  three  times, 
"Hark!"  Then  there  was  a  breathless  silence  in 
the  audience,  to  hear  what  was  coming.  "  Now," 
says  he,  "comes  the  remainder  of  my  text:  'But 
know  thou  tliat  for  all  these  things  God  will  bring 
thee  into  judgment.' "  I  had  little  thought  that  he 
was  raising  me  up,  through  the  first  part  of  his  dis- 
course, in  order  to  give  me  the  greater  fall.  But 
for  all  these  follies,  he  poured  out  the  judgments  of 
God  upon  the  wicked  imsparingly,  until  some  cried 
out,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  I,  with  some 
others,  left  the  ground,  thinking  more  favourably  of 
the  fii'st  part  of  his  discourse  than  the  latter.  How- 
ever, I  had  not  quite  as  good  an  opinion  of  my  own 
heart  and  conduct  as  I  had  when  I  went  there. 
Often  afterward,  in  the  midst  of  revelry,  these  words 
were  thundered  home  to  my  conscience — "  Remem- 
ber that  for  all  these  things  God  will  bring  thee  into 
judgment."  And  I  often  had  times  appointed  in 
my  own  mind  when  I  would  set  out  to  serve  the 
Lord ;  but  there  Avas  always  a  year's  work,  at  least, 
to  do  previous  to  the  commencement.  But  at  all 
events,  I  meant  to  begin  as  soon  as  I  got  married 


LIFJi  OF  ti.  \V.  HENKV. 


117 


and  settled ;  and  after  I  got  married,  my  wife  and 
I  agreed  that  the  next  year,  at  camp-meeting,  we 
would  set  out  together.  As  that  period  arrived,  we 
found  so  many  difficulties  in  the  way,  that  we 
readily  resolved  to  put  it  oft"  until  the  next.  O  !  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin ! 

Reader,  I  have  now  brought  to  your  notice  some 
of  the  moral  features  of  my  life.  I  have  also 
travelled  with  you  through  the  follies  of  my  youth,  as 
well  as  through  many  of  my  business  transactions  in 
riper  years.  I  have  led  you  along,  down  to  that  holy 
Sabbath  day  w-hich  I  was  preparing  to  desecrate. 
That  day  will  be  remembered  by  me  in  eternity. 
It  was  a  day  like  that  on  which  Saul  of  Tai-sus 
was  arrested,  and  turned  from  his  career  of  wicked- 
ness, while  on  the  road  to  Damascus.  But  it  would 
seem  that  disappointments  and  misfortunes  only 
served  to  strengthen  me,  and  nerve  my  arm  for 
more  business  and  a  greater  fortune.  I  was  like  the 
lion  that  crouches  in  order  to  take  a  more  desperate 
leap  for  his  prey.  The  reader  will  bring  back  his 
thoughts  to  the  Saturday  night  when  I  was  exulting 
at  the  success  of  my  business,  contemplating  the 
great  fortune  of  which  I  was  almost  in  reach,  and 
resolving  to  go  with  my  friend  and  family  to  Berkley 
Springs.  There  we  expected  to  join  with  the  giddy 
and  the  gay,  planters  and  their  sons  and  daughters, 
for  the  purpose  of  drinking  juleps,  banqueting,  prom- 
enading, <fcc.  Accordingly,  about  nine  o'clock  on 
Sunday  morning  the  horses  were  harnessed,  and  all 


118  TRIALS  AND  TKiUMl'llS  IN  THE 

was  ready.  My  family  consisted  of  my  wife  and 
two  dxildren.  My  eldest,  Frances  Clarissa,  was 
about  two  years  and  three  months  old,  a  beautiful 
and  interesting-  child.  She  seemed  to  me  one  of 
the  handsomest  children  I  ever  saw.  I  suppose, 
however,  that  a  great  many  parents  would  honestly 
contend  for  the  same  prize.  My  j'oungest  child 
was  four  mouths  old. 

All  being  ready,  we  mounted  the  caiTiage,  and 
were  rapidly  on  our  way  to  the  Springs.  We  had 
not,  however,  proceeded  more  than  two  miles,  be- 
fore I  was  suddenly  taken  sick,  with  a  severe  pain 
in  my  head,  attended  with  cold  chills,  so  that  I  was 
obliged  to  turn  about  and  return  home.  This  w  as 
the  ^  ery  spot,  where  the  Lord  in  his  goodness  and 
mercy  ari'csted  me  in  my  mad  career,  and  power- 
fully urged  me,  by  his  Spirit,  to  turn  and  seek  his 
face  and  favour.  Bless  his  holy  name  forever !  But 
I  was  like  the  man  that  Bunyan  describes  with  the 
muck-rake.  While  the  intei'preter  was  taking  one 
of  the  pilgrims  through  the  king's  palace  and  gar- 
dens, he  saw  a  man  there  having  a  muck-rake  in 
his  hand,  while  a  celestial  crown  was  held  over  his 
head  by  an  invisible  hand — but  he  was  so  intent  or 
engaged  in  raking  together  a  few  straws  and  sticks 
that  he  could  not  look  up,  or  spai-e  a  hand  to  re- 
ceive it.  The  pilgi-im  inquired  of  him,  what  that 
picture  represented  ?  The  interpreter  told  him  that 
that  represented  a  man  of  this  world.  So  intent 
was  he  upon  the  vanities  that  perish  with  their 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HE>KV. 


Ill) 


using,  that  he  had  not  even  a  thought  or  a  desire 
after  celestial  things.  "  O,"  says  the  pilgrim,  "  de- 
liver me  from  the  muck-rake."  "  Amen,"  replied 
the  interpreter.  That  prayer  has  got  rusty,  for  it 
seems  not  to  have  been  used  much  for  many  yeai's. 
But  God  in  wisdom,  and  in  his  own  way,  turned 
my  eyes  aud  thoughts  from  earth  to  heaven.  After 
returning  liome,  I  lay  down  upon  a  bed  in  much 
distress.  The  family  all  partook  of  tlieir  supper, 
and  my  little  daughter  among  the  rest.  I  think 
1  never  saw  her  more  playful  and  interesting  than 
she  was  that  day.  After  supper,  she  sat  down  in 
her  little  chair  and  reclined  her  head  a  little.  Her 
mother,  supposing  her  asleep,  went  and  raised  up 
her  head,  and,  to  our  astonishment,  death  had 
already  laid  hold  on  her  ^v^th  an  unyielding  grasp. 
Her  sparkling  black  eyes  had  already  become  set  in 
their  sockets,  presenting  a  vacant  glare.  Every 
eftbrt  in  our  power  was  made  to  bring  her  relief^ 
but  she  struggled  a  few  moments  with  the  grim 
uionster,  and  the  spirit  of  my  little  Fanny  wa.s  re- 
leased from  its  cumbrous  clay.  The  bird  had  flown 
from  its  cage  to  paradise,  to  return  no  more  until 
the  morning  of  the  resurrection.  She  died  in  the 
lap  of  a  neighbouring  old  Avoman,  who  came  in 
during  that  solemn  hour.  I  have  often  chided 
parents,  and  more  especially  fathers,  for  displaying 
so  much  Aveakness  at  the  death  and  burial  of  a 
young  child;  but  all  the  good  reasons  I  had  as- 
sigue<l  for  them  to  ca^t  away  their  sorrow,  seemed 


i2U  llJlALti  ANU  TKiLMl'US  IN  llli; 

to  have  but  little  influence  on  my  mind.  1  received 
l)ut  little  balm  from  such  considerations.  As  soon 
as  the  vital  spark  had  fled,  I  fell  upon  my  knees, 
bending  over  her  lifeless  corpse,  praying  loudly  to 
God  that  he  would  give  me  back  my  child,  which 
seemed  so  rudely  and  suddenly  snatched  from  the 
arins  and  embraces  of  her  parents.  I  had  not  grace 
at  this  time  to  lay  my  Isaac  or  Benjamin,  or  even 
lay  little  Fanny,  on  the  altar  that  sanctifieth  the  gift. 
I  could  not  say,  with  patient  Job,  "  The  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  tlie  name 
uf  the  Lord."  O  no!  I  was  foolishly  weak;  but 
leason,  resuming  her  seat,  informed  me  that  I  must 
prepare  her  for  the  grave.  So  she  whom,  but  a 
little  while  before,  fancy  had  pictured  out  a  beauti- 
ful young  lady  of  eighteen,  the  pride  and  joy  of 
her  parents,  was  now  laid  on  her  cooling  board, 
soon  to  become  food  for  worms.  There  was  a  very 
good  old  preacher  by  the  name  of  Gardner,  who 
had  held  meeting  about  a  mile  fi'om  there  that 
day  :  he  was  engaged  to  preach  the  funeral  sermon 
the  next  day.  All  business  was  suspended,  and  the 
preacher  came  and  delivered  his  discourse.  The 
procession  was  formed  by  my  workmen  and  neigh- 
bours, and  she  was  committed  to  the  grave  on  a 
lonely  hill,  a  short  distance  from  the  mill.  O  how 
many  times,  when  reason  would  give  her  up,  affec- 
tion would  claim  her  right,  and  bring  her  back 
again  !  But  we  returned  home  with  sorrowful 
hearts,  like  Mary  weeping  at  the  sepulchre. 


LIFE  OK  U.  W.  llEMtV.  IJl 

The  wheels  of  our  business  were  set  in  motion 
again,  although  the  whole  country  seemed  as  lone- 
some to  me  as  a  grave-yard.  Christ  said,  "  What 
I  do  thou  knowest  not  now;  but  thou  shalt  know 
hereafter."  John  xiii,  1.  This  was  said  to  saints, 
but,  alas  !  I  was  not  a  saint.  I  knew  nothing  of  the 
comforting  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  sustain 
me  in  the  hour  of  affliction.  I  think  the  first  night 
after  the  funeral,  before  I  retired  to  bed,  I  bent  the 
knee,  and  uttered  something  like  promises  that  I 
would  then  begin  to  lead  a  new  hfe  and  seek  relig- 
ion. But  I  fear  my  heart  did  not  desire  to  do 
what  I  promised  with  my  \\])s.  My  prayer  was  like 
the  ships  of  Jehoshaphat,  that  never  reached  the 
mines,  being  scattered  in  their  passage ;  for  while  I 
was  praying,  my  engine  was  puffing,  my  mills  rat- 
tling, and,  like  the  man  with  a  muck-rake,  I  was 
still  desiring  to  gather  up  more  straws — and  my  old 
counsellor  was  at  my  elbow,  whispering  in  my  ear, 
that  above  all  times  in  my  life,  this  was  the  most 
inauspicious  period  to  set  out  to  serve  the  Lord.  He 
then  brought  to  my  mind,  that  six  thousand  dollars 
worth  of  business  must  be  accomphshed  in  a  month, 
or  at  least  two  hundred  dollars  Avorth  a  day,  in 
order  to  complete  my  contract  in  time.  The  gi-and 
adversary  thus  very  plausibly  showing  me  that  I 
would  find  no  time  to  attend  to  the  ordinances  of 
God,  I  finally  agreed  with  him,  that  it  was  best  to 
put  it  off  until  the  job  was  completed.  Si>  T  got  up 
from  my  knees,  mourning  about  the  loss  of  my 


r22  TKIALS  AND  THIUMI'IIS  IN  TICIi 


child,  and  contemplating  the  great  fortune  1  was 
soon  to -realize.  If  the  devil  had  suggested  to  me 
the  idea  of  never  trying  to  get  religion,  I  should  not 
have  listened  to  him  a  moment;  but  he  under- 
stands his  subjects  better  than  they  do  themselves, 
and  can  always  adapt  himself  to  suit  their  case. 

The  next  day  my  business  called  me  to  the  A  il- 
lage  of  Martinsburg,  a  distance  of  almost  seventeen 
miles,  the  county  seat  of  Berkley.  The  shock  I  re- 
ceived from  the  sudden  death  of  my  child  seeinetl 
to  have  banished  the  pain  and  sickness  with  Avliich 
T  was  attacked  while  on  my  way  to  the  Springs  on 
Sunday  morning ;  but  now  I  was  seized  with  great 
pain  in  my  right  leg,  so  that  I  could  not  ride  on 
horseback.  My  young  brother-in-law,  therefore, 
took  me  down  in  a  carriage.  After  hobbling  about 
and  finishing  my  business,  we  started  for  home 
about  sunset.  But  I  was  suddenly  taken  w  ith  such 
exquisite  pain,  that  I  was  obliged  to  turn  about  be- 
fore I  got  out  of  the  village,  and  return  back  to  the 
hotel.  There  I  remained  for  about  one  month, — 
being  afflicted  with  exquisite  pain  in  my  leg,  at- 
tended with  chills  and  fever,  until  I  was  reduced  to 
a  mere  skeleton,  and  my  life  by  some  despaired  of. 
There  is  one  singular  providence  that  I  would  not 
pass  over  without  making  some  remarks ;  whether  it 
be  a  mere  accident  or  a  special  providence  a  here- 
after may  determine.  You  recollect  I  told  you  that 
on  the  night  of  the  death  of  my  child,  I  got  u])on 
my  knees  to  pray  before  T  retired  to  bed ;  but  it 


LIFK  Of  Q.  W.  HEXKV. 


123 


turned  out,  that  instead  of  making  a  covenant  with 
(Jod  to  seek  his  face  then,  I  made  an  agi-eement  with 
Satan  to  wait  until  after  tlie  contract  was  finished ; 
and  as  I  was  about  to  rise  fi'om  my  knees,  I  liit 
tlie  edge  of  my  knee-pan  upon  the  head  of  a  nail 
that  was  raised  up  in  tlie  floor,  which,  although 
not  worth  noticing  at  the  moment,  was  the  prin- 
cipal cause  of  my  long  sickness  in  Martinsburg,  by 
which  I  came  very  near  losing  my  leg,  if  not  ray  life. 
And  I  can  now  look  back  and  see  the  force  of  that 
])assage  of  Scripture,  and  can  apply  it  in  truth  to  my 
case,  from  that  day  till  now :  "  As  an  eagle  stirretli 
up  her  nest,  fluttereth  over  her  young,  spreadeth 
abroad  her  wings,  taketli  them,  beareth  them  on 
her  wings :  so  the  Lord  alone  did  lead  him,  and 
there  was  no  strange  God  with  him."  Deut.  xxxii, 
11,12.  It  is  said  by  naturalists  that  the  eagle  builds 
her  nest  on  the  highest  and  most  secluded  cliff. 
She  builds  the  foundation  of  lier  nest  with  sharp 
thorns,  lining  it  with  a  very  soft  raateiial ;  and  when 
the  young  are  sufficiently  feathered,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  mother,  to  sail  out  from  their  nest,  but  they, 
not  having  confidence  in  their  own  wing,  continue 
lazily  in  their  soft  nest,  then,  in  the  language  of  Scrip- 
ture, she  stirreth  up  her  nest,  by  taking  all  the  soft 
lining  from  under  her  tender  young  and  scattering 
it  to  the  winds,  and  thus  leaving  them  their  choice 
to  fly  or  die  on  a  bed  of  thorns.  The  decision  is 
soon  made  to  venture  out,  while  the  paient  eagle 
fluttereth  over  them,  while  she  spreads  her  broad 


124  TRIALS  AND  TKlUMi'HS  IN  THE 

wings,  seemingly  standing  on  the  thin  air,  watching 
with  the  greatest  care  the  uncertain  movement  of 
her  young ;  and  when  the  strength  of  their  wings  is 
almost  spent,  fainting  between  despair  and  hope, 
with  the  velocity  of  lightning  she  darts  beneath 
them  and  bears  them  up  on  her  strong  pinions. 
AVhen  they  have  thus  rested  and  gathered  strength, 
another  trial  is  made  of  the  wing ;  and  so  on,  until 
they  become  perfect  eagles  in  strength. 

So  it  was  with  your  humble  author.  A  fanciful 
imagination  had  pictured  to  me  the  soft  bed  of 
affluence  and  ease,  and  I  was  determined  to  have  it 
before  I  set  out  to  serve  the  Lord.  But,  glory  to  his 
holy  name !  he  now  began  to  stir  up  my  nest,  but 
in  a  gradual  manner.  He  had  already  taken  away 
my  idol  child,  to  attract  my  attention  and  my  affec- 
tions upwards.  The  parent,  whose  only  child  has 
crossed  the  briny  deep,  Avill  often  think  of  the 
departed  one,  and  long  to  be  with  it.  So  my 
thoughts  were  drawn  after  my  beloved  little  girl. 
I  was  now  laid  also  upon  that  bed  of  sickness,  and 
began  to  feel  the  thorns  pricking  me.  My  wife  was 
immediately  sent  for,  and  she,  with  the  hand  of  love 
and  affection,  endeavoured  to  smooth  and  soften  my 
pillow.  But  it  was  in  vain  ;  my  bed  was  thorny. 
Not  only  did  the  stings  of  an  awakened  conscience, 
but  also  pain  of  body,  and  the  trouble  of  worldly 
business  afflict  and  perplex  me.  Now  all  my  cher- 
ished hopes  of  a  great  fortune  began  to  attach  to 
themselves  wings,  and,  as  in  the  disasters  of  Job, 


LIKE  OF  U.  W.  UENin. 


125 


one  servant  quickly  followed  anotlier,  bringing  news 
of  some  sad  misfortune  and  disappointment.  It 
seemed  the  very  elements  had  turned  against  me ; 
for  the  stream  that  supplied  my  engine  with  water 
was  now  nearly  dry.  This  was  a  circumstance  un- 
known before  by  the  oldest  citizens.  A  constant 
stream  of  only  the  size  of  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
would  have  supplied  it  night  and  day.  During  the 
month  that  I  lay  sick  at  Martinsburg,  I  made  many 
promises  to  the  Lord  that  I  would  set  out  to  serve 
him ;  but  the  adversary  of  ray  soul  was  constantly 
engaged  in  striving  to  prevent  me — telling  me,  Not 
now.  The  cares  of  business  and  pain  of  body 
all  seemed  to  unite  against  me  to  crowd  out  and 
choke  every  good  desire.  O !  my  dear  reader,  let 
me  here  solemnly  and  emphatically  warn  you, 
and  in  the  name  of  God  beseech  you,  to  set  out  this 
moment  to  seek  the  Lord,  with  full  purpose  of  heart, 
before  the  evil  day  draws  near  when  you  shall  be 
laid  upon  a  bed  of  languishing!  You  will  then 
have  enough  to  grapple  with,  without  drinking  the 
wormwood  and  the  gall.  "  Seek  the  Lord  while  he 
may  be  found,"  and  your  bed  of  death  shall 

"  Be  soft  as  downy  pillows  are, 
While  on  his  breast  you  lean  your  head, 

And  breathe  your  life  out  sweetly  there." 

Having  partially  recovered,  so  that  I  could  hobble 
across  the  room  on  a  pair  of  crutches,  I  was  carried 
back  to  the  mill,  which  I  found  motionless,  and 
ever}  thing  around  wore  a  gloomy  aspect.    The  ex- 


126  TRIALS  AXD  THUMPHS  /K  TIIK 

cessive  drought  throughout  tlie  country  had  stopped 
nearly  all  my  water-mills.  Something  was  neces- 
sary to  be  done,  to  bring  up  the  rear  in  my  busi- 
ness, and  secure,  if  possible,  the  back  money  wliich 
was  already  earned,  and  in  the  hands  of  the  com- 
pany, but  which  was  subject  to  forfeiture  unless  the 
job  was  completed.  It  was  certain  ruin  to  stop 
there,  and  it  could  be  nothing  worse  to  endeavour 
to  finish.  My  promises  to  God  were  as  if  written 
on  the  snow.  I  clenched  the  muck-rake  to  gather 
up  some  of  the  scattered  straws.  I  resolved  to  go 
to  Baltimore,  although  I  looked  more  like  a  candi- 
date for  the  grave-yard  than  for  anj'  other  business. 

However,  I  met  the  company,  and  they  agreed  to 
join  with  me  in  supplying  the  residue  of  timber, 
promising  to  pay  me  for  all  I  would  supply,  be  it 
more  or  less.  That  night  I  stayed  in  Baltimore,  and 
put  up  at  Beltshoover's  large  hotel,  a  place  where  I 
had  usually  stopped.  I  was  shown  by  the  servant 
to  my  lodging-room.  There  I  spent  a  most  solemn 
night;  and  though  I  was  not  in  very  great  pain, 
yet  it  seemed  that  none  but  death  was  to  be  my 
companion  in  the  night.  When  I  went  to  bed,  I 
got  the  servant  to  fasten  the  bell  of  my  room  over 
my  head,  so  that  I  could  reach  up  my  arm  and  ring 
it  if  I  should  have  occasion,  or  rather  the  wire  of 
my  bell  that  passed  from  my  room,  through  vari- 
ous walls  of  the  house,  into  a  lower  room  where 
the  servant  watched.  Pulling  that  wire  would  ring 
a  bell  having  the  number  of  my  room,  and  so  di- 


l.IFK  OF        W.  IIEXIiV. 


127 


rect  the  servant  to  the  right  place.  But,  thank 
God !  I  survived  the  dead,  though  I  believe  I  pray- 
ed in  rather  more  earnest  that  night  than  I  ever 
had  before ;  but  I  fear  I  prayed  more  for  the  pre- 
ser^'ation  of  my  life  than  for  the  pardon  of  my 
sins. 

I  now  returned  home  again,  being  determined 
that  even  the  elements  should  not  prevail  against 
me  in  stopping  my  mills.  So  I  rigged  a  team  and 
hauled  about  twenty  hogsheads  of  water  daily,  for 
about  six  weeks.  This,  in  addition  to  what  I  re- 
ceived by  sinking  a  well,  enabled  me  to  keep  mj' 
engine  in  motion,  praying  and  expecting  every  day 
that  the  heavens  would  give  us  rain.  Although,  in 
this  way,  my  water  cost  me  five  dollai-s  a  day,  yet 
it  was  wisdom  to  obtain  it  so,  under  our  circum- 
stances. So  the  company  and  myself,  by  bringing 
a  large  quantity  of  timber  from  North  Carolina,  and 
every  other  place  where  we  could  procure  it,  at  almost 
any  price,  completed  the  contract  early  the  next 
spring.  I  think  it  was  in  October  that  I  set  the 
mill  in  operation,  driving  everything  I  could  before 
me.  I  had  now  regained  my  health,  with  the  ex- 
ception that  my  right  leg  was  shrunk  and  withered, 
from  the  upper  joint  of  my  thigh  doAvn  to  my 
ankle.  So  I  halted  on  my  thigh,  like  Jacob,  wlien 
he  wrestled  at  the  ford  of  Jabbok  with  the  angel. 
Gen.  xxxii.  I  was  still  listening  to  the  advice  of  the 
adversary  of  ray  soul,  "  Wait  till  a  more  convenient 
season,  to  give  your  lieart  unto  God."    O !  how 


128  TlilALri  AND  TlUr.MI'US  IX  TIIK 

true  it  is,  that  the  Lord  is  h)ng-siifl'ering,  not  willing 
that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all  should  come  to 
repentance.  2  Pet.  iii,  9. 

Christmas  had  now  arrived,  and  I  was  able  to 
lay  aside  one  of  my  crutches  and  again  to  mount 
my  horse.  Having  business  witli  Colonel  Colston, 
who  had  also  been  engaged  in  furnishing  timber  for 
the  company,  I  went  to  see  him.  And  perhaps  it 
would  not  be  uninteresting  or  out  of  place  here,  to 
give  my  northern  reader  a  little  account  of  my  visit, 
and  a  short  description  of  this  distinguished  family. 
The  colonel  was  an  heir  of  at  least  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  was  one  of  the  Virginia 
"  bloods,"  as  he  was  termed.  He  was  a  noble-look- 
ing, free-liearted  man,  and,  in  short,  he  possessed 
every  qualification  of  a  gentleman.  He  had  been 
a  member  of  Congress  several  years.  He  lived  in 
a  large  and  ancient  brick  mansion,  situated  about  a 
mile  south  of  the  Potomac  river.  Around  this  he 
owned  about  fifteen  hundred  acres  of  elegant  lime- 
stone land,  divided  into  several  farms.  The  canal 
company  had  thrown  a  heavy  dam  across  the  river 
near  him,  where  he  had  erected,  about  five  years  pre- 
vious, a  flouring-mill  and  saw-mill.  These,  having 
cost  about  thirty-five  thousand  dollars,  burned  down 
the  first  week,  the  fire  also  consuming  a  large  amount 
of  wheat  with  them.  At  the  time  of  my  visit,  he 
had  just  completed  another  similar  mill  on  the 
same  ground.  This  being  Christmas-day,  and  the 
birthday  of  the  colonel,  tliey  ha^l  been  accustomed, 


UFE  OF  G.  W.  URNltV. 


129 


for  many  years,  to  observe  it  as  a  family  festival.  I 
had  often  visited  him  before,  and  on  that  occasion 
he  pressed  me  to  dine  with  him,  and  remain  all 
night.  About  four  o'clock  the  rich  banqueting 
table  was  spread,  covered  with  the  luxuries  of  life 
and  the  dainties  of  the  season.  His  family  consist- 
ed of  a  wife  and  five  children,  a  family  tutor,  a 
young  lady,  who  was  a  relative,  and  an  old  mother 
of  about  eighty,  a  relic  of  the  Washington  family. 
She  was  au  own  sister  to  Chief  Justice  Mai-shall, 
and  a  near  coimexion  of  General  Washington. 
After  dinner,  talking  and  mincing  perhaps  an  hour 
and  a  half,  bottles  of  verj'  rich  wine  were  produced, 
and  a  glass  for  each  ;  and  while  drinking,  senti- 
ments or  toasts  were  freely  exchanged,  in  which  the 
old  lady  and  the  colonel  participated.  This  was  a 
respectable  family,  and  could  boast  of  noble  ances- 
tors. Before  we  arose  from  the  table,  the  colonel 
related  his  experience  for  the  last  previous  ten  years, 
which  w'as  as  follows : — 

He  said  that  he  was  that  day  fifty-five  yeai-s  old. 
When  he  was  forty-five  he  resolved  to  let  go  public 
offices  and  build  the  mill,  as  I  have  heretofore  stated, 
get  out  of  debt,  and  so  arrange  his  property  as  to 
have  no  other  care  but  to  receive  the  revenue  of 
the  rents  that  it  yielded  him.  The  balance  of  his 
life,  from  fifty  years  old,  he  had  resolved  to  dedicate 
to  God,  and  enjoy  the  comfort  of  his  family.  "  But 
alas!"  said  he,  "how  vain  are  all  human  calcula- 
tions !    From  the  very  period  T  had  set  to  be  re- 

!) 


130  TKIALS  AND  TIIIUMPHS  IN  THK 

lieved  from  the  anxieties,  cares,  and  troubles  of  this 
world,  the  revei-se  wjis  my  lot.  For,"  continued  he, 
"I  have  had  more  trouble  and  pecuniary  embar- 
rassments during  the  last  five  years,  than  all  the 
rest  of  my  life  put  together."'  And  I  suppose  it 
was  true;  for  tlie  constable  and  the  sheriff  were 
daily  at  his  elbows,  teasing  him  for  money.  The 
burning  of  his  mill,  the  fall  of  property,  and  tlie 
depreciation  of  currency,  had  so  embarrassed  his 
possessions,  and  left  him  as  poor  a  man  .is  the 
humble  guest  he  was  then  entertaining. 

And  here  I  learned  a  salutary  lesson,  viz.,  that  it 
is  not  all  gold  that  glitters,  and  that  those  are  not 
always  the  richest  that  live  in  the  greatest  houses 
or  own  the  largest  farms.  O,  how  mistaken  is  the 
judgment  of  this  world  concerning  the  things  that 
make  for  our  peace  !  I  can  now  truly  say  with  the 
poet,  "  Give  me  Jesus — give  me  Jesus — and  you 
may  have  all  the  world  besides."  The  evening 
passed  away  pleasantly. 

The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath,  and  the  colonel 
being  an  Episcopalian,  all  bowed  the  knee  around 
the  family  altar  while  he  read  a  prayer,  concluding 
with  the  "  Lord's  prayer,"  in  which  all  the  family 
joined.  His  negro  slaves,  of  both  sexes,  were  all 
set  free  fiom  Christmas  till  New- Year.  This  is  a 
custom  throughout  Virginia  and  Maryland.  It  is 
their  annual  jubilee.  Those  who  are  not  religiously 
inclined,  generally  pass  their  time  in  frolicking, 
dancing,  getting  married,  tfec.    And  so  I  left  them. 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


131 


in  the  full  belief  that  the  negroes  enjoyed  tlie 
greatest  happiness,  and  the  greatest  slave  on  the 
plantation  Avas  tlie  noble  and  generous-hearted 
colonel  himself;  that  is,  of  the  two  great  evils  of 
slavery  for  the  time  being,  tlie  colonel  was  the  most 
harassed.  An  honest  man  to  be  in  debt  without  any 
thing  to  pay,  is,  as  it  has  been  said,  like  a  cat  being 
in  hell  without  claws.  I  know  how  to  pity  him.  These 
were  fetters,  however,  that  his  own  ambitious  hand 
had  placed  upon  his  own  freedom ;  but  not  so  with  the 
poor  negroes ;  they  were  doomed  to  wear  their  chains 
perhaps  imtil  death  should  sign  their  release.  It  is 
a  rare  thing  that  the  slave  finds  so  kind  a  master 
iis  Colonel  C.  Something  like  the  family  in  which 
Uncle  Tom  and  Aunt  Chloe  found  a  birthplace 
imtil  the  extravagance  of  Mi-.  Shelby,  the  sure  fore- 
runner of  poverty,  turned  Uncle  Tom  out  of  his 
paradise,  and  he  was  doomed  to  run  the  gauntlet 
of  hell,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  until  death  signed 
his  release.  This  picture  of  slavery,  in  all  its  phases, 
has  been  so  perfectly  portrayed  before  the  eye  of 
the  public  by  Mrs.  H.  B.  Stowe,  that  I  will  not  daub 
the  painting  with  my  unskilful  brush,  but  my  soul 
says  Amen  to  her  sentiment.  So  I  soon  found  my- 
self with  my  family  at  Kinderhook  mills.  So  much 
for  that  visit. 

I  think  about  this  time  I  was  almost  as  far  from 
God  as  I  ever  was.  Having  regained  my  health, 
I  was  determined,  in  spite  of  everything,  to  make 
some  money  out  of  the  job.    When  stern  Justice 


132  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  XIIE 

said,  "Cut  liim  down;  why  cumbereth  be  the 
ground?  Has  he  not  been  called,  from  time  to 
time,  both  by  general  and  special  providences,  to 
turn  and  seek  the  Lord  ?  Has  he  not  mocked  God 
with  vain  promises?  Has  he  not,  for  more  than 
thirty  years,  trampled  under  foot  the  prayers  and 
tears  of  a  pious  mother,  whose  constant  anxiety 
was  that  lier  only  child  might  become  a  Christian  ? 
Has  he  not  sinned  against  light  and  knowledge 
continually  ?  Why  not  number  him  with  all  the 
nations  that  forget  God  ?" — While  this  was  the 
cry  of  Justice,  Mercy  cried,  "  O,  spare  him  a  little 
longer !"  Glory  to  God  !  It  was  because  Jesus 
had  not  left  the  mercy-seat — had  not  yet  ceased 
pleading  my  cause,  showing  his  bleeding  hands  and 
side  to  the  Father,  praying  that  another  eftbrt  might 
be  made  for  my  salvation — that  I  am  now  the  spared 
monument  of  his  amazing  mercy !  The  Fatlier, 
looking  upon  his  Anointed,  granted  the  petition, 
and  glory  be  to  his  holy  name,  "whose  mercy 
endureth  forever." 

And  now  the  last  blessed  and  effectual  effort 
was,  to  drop  a  dark  curtain  before  me  and  totally 
exclude  me  from  the  sight  of  all  sublunary  and 
transitory  things.  My  sight  began  then,  very 
gradually,  to  leave  me,  and  that  without  the  least 
pain.  The  next  Sabbath,  being  New-Year,  1  dro\'e 
in  my  carriage  to  Hedgesville,  a  distance  of  about 
eleven  miles,  and  heard  the  Rev.  John  A.  Collins 
preach,  at  a  quarterly  meeting.    He  was  the  last 


LIFE  OF  U.  W.  UENKV. 


133 


man  I  ever  saw  in  a  pulpit.  My  desires  were  some- 
wliat  awakened,  under  his  preaching,  to  seek  tlie 
Lord ;  and  before  I  returned  home,  I  purcliased  a 
large  family  Bible.  I  opened  it,  and  by  looking 
very  close,  was  able  to  read  one  verse,  and  that,  I 
think,  was  the  last  I  ever  read.  I  drove  my  horse 
within  a  mile  of  home,  but  my  sight  failed  so  fast, 
that  my  wife  was  unwilling  to  ride  so  any  farther. 
But  she  not  being  acquainted  with  driving  hei-self, 
we  took  the  hoi-ses  from  the  carriage  and  went  home 
without  it.  This  was  the  last  time  I  ever  attempted 
to  drive. 

Soon  after  this,  I  had  occasion  to  go  to  Baltimore. 
One  of  my  workmen  put  a  horse  before  my  buggy 
to  take  me  to  Martinsburg,  where  I  intended  to 
take  a  stage.  On  the  way,  and  about  half  the  dis- 
tance, we  were  under  the  necessity  of  fording  a  large 
creek.  As  we  arrived  at  the  shore,  the  driver  said 
he  thought  the  creek  had  risen  about  two  feet.  I 
concluded  that  if  it  had  not  risen  more  than  that, 
we  should  be  able  to  ford  it  with  safety.  I  coidd 
now  see  just  well  enough  to  discover  the  shape  of 
the  horse  between  me  and  the  sun.  So  we  plunged 
into  the  creek,  but  it  had  risen  four  or  five  feet  in- 
stead of  two,  and  we  soon  found  ourselves  in  eight 
or  ten  feet  water,  and  that  running  wild  as  a  torrent. 
The  horse,  being  checked,  was  unable  to  swim,  and 
strangling,  turned  a  perfect  somerset;  and  as  he 
came  up  with  his  head  towards  the  buggy,  he  came 
very  near  pulling  us  under.    We  were  now  all  float- 


134 


TRIALS  AND  TKIUMl'lIS  IN  Tllli 


ing  down  the  stream,  and  it  was  death  to  jump  out, 
as  no  man  could  stand  the  torrent,  so  that  all  hopes 
of  life  seemed,  for  a  time,  to  he  cut  off.  O,  how 
horror  and  despair  rushed  upon  my  guilty  soul  at 
that  perilous  and  solemn  moment!  I  cried  aloud 
for  mercy,  and  as  a  kind  Providence  had  so  ordered 
it,  a  man,  on  a  very  large  horse,  came  to  our  rescue ; 
my  horse,  in  the  meantime,  having  come  in  contact 
with  some  obstruction  in  the  river,  nobly  held  all  at 
anchor. 

The  man  on  the  large  horse  came  in  to  our  relief, 
and  set  us  safely  on  terra-fir  ma,  wliile  the  horse 
was  got  loose  from  the  buggy  and  swam  ashore, 
leaving  the  buggy  there.  "  Well,"  says  the  reader, 
"  did  you  not  fiill  on  your  face  and  give  thanks  to 
that  invisible  Hand  that  snatched  you  from  a  watery 
grave,  and  as  a  bi-and  from  a  burning  hell  ?"  With 
shame  and  confusion  of  face,  I  must  tell  you,  that 
my  proud  heart  would  not  suffer  me  to  bow  the 
knee,  even  under  those  solemn  circumstances.  Had 
no  one  been  present  but  myself,  I  should  probably 
have  got  down  on  my  knees  and  expressed  my 
deep-felt  gratitude  to  my  Deliverer.  I  owed  my  de- 
liverance to  the  mercy  of  God.  But,  like  Napoleon, 
unacquainted  with  retreat,  I  went  up  the  creek 
about  five  miles,  and  crossed  it  on  a  bridge,  and 
made  my  way  to  Baltimore.  My  principal  business 
was  to  obtain  relief  for  my  eyes.  I  visited  several 
eminent  physicians,  but  obtained  no  relief,  and  but 
Httle  encouragement  from  them.    But  hope  still 


LIKE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


135 


lingered  in  my  lieart,  cheering  me  witli  the  belief 
that  I  should  eventually  obtain  my  sight,  and  so  I 
returned  home  again. 

About  this  time  the  money  of  the  company,  issued 
from  the  city  loan,  which  I  was  bound  to  take  in 
payment  for  my  timber,  depreciated  one-half  in 
value.  There  was  at  this  time,  too,  probably  two 
millions  of  dollars  of  it  in  circulation,  so  that  it  was 
difficult  to  pay  a  debt  of  one  dollar  with  two.  As 
continental  times  had  come  again  throughout  the 
country,  my  prospects  for  making  money  on  that 
job  received  a  fatal  stab.  My  only  hope  now  was,  that 
the  company  would  give  me  my  retain  pei'centage, 
which  at  that  time  was  considerable.  The  man  of 
whom  I  bought  the  land,  refusing  to  take  the  rail- 
road money,  closed  up  liis  mortgage,  and  forced  all 
to  sheriff  sale ;  and  as  there  was  no  one  who  had 
current  money  to  buy,  the  mills,  land  and  all, 
brought  only  one  thousand  dollars.  Here  was  a 
tremendous  sacrifice.  I  now  had  nothing  else  to  do 
but  to  pay  off  my  men,  gather  up  my  family  and 
goods,  and  return  to  Pennsylvania.  I  intended  to 
spend  the  summer  in  search  of  a  physician  that 
would  be  able  to  restore  to  me  my  sight. 

This  was  in  the  spring  of  1842.  I  intended  also 
to  settle  up  my  business  in  the  three  States  as  fast 
as  possible.  I  had  at  this  time  probably  unsettled 
business  with  various  corporations  and  individuals, 
to  the  amount  of  twenty-five  thousand  dollars,  and 
most  of  it  in  a  perplexed  and  embarrassed  situation. 


130  TKIALS  AMU  TIOLMI-HS  IN  THE 

The  I'ailroad  company  unmercifully  refused  to  give 
me  my  retain  percentage,  unless  compelled  by  a 
course  of  law.  This  they  very  well  knew  I  was  un- 
prepared to  do.  For  an  individual  to  contend  in 
law  with  corporations,  is  like  approaching  a  hornet's 
nest,  and  is  generally  vain,  however  just  the  claim 
may  be.  And  I  here  give  it  as  my  opinion,  that 
in  general,  at  least,  they  are  a  curse  to  the  country  ; 
that  they  are  without  character  or  responsibility. 
Taking  this  general  view  of  my  business,  in  connex- 
ion Avith  my  infirmity,  I  resolved  to  give  to  my 
creditoi-s  a  schedule  of  all  my  debts  and  ci-edits  the 
world  over,  and  let  them  make  the  best  of  them 
they  could  for  themselves.  My  debts  amounted  to 
a  little  over  eight  thousand  dollars,  and  the  amount 
due  me  about  eighteen  thousand,  leaving  a  balance 
in  my  favour,  if  all  could  be  collected,  of  about  ten 
thousand  dollai-s.  This  is  probably  about  the  way 
I  stand  as  to  this  world's  affairs.  The  greater  part 
of  what  is  due  me,  being  in  the  hands  of  rotten 
corporations,  I  fear  there  will  not  be  half  enough 
collected,  even  to  pay  up  my  debts. 

"  How  vain  are  all  things  liere  below, 

How  false  and  yet  how  fair ! 
Each  pleasure  hath  its  poison  too, 

And  every  sweet  a  snare." 

Dear  reader,  have  you  any  treasure  in  heaven? 
Do  you  feel  daily  an  earnest  of  that  blood-bought 
inheritance  ?  Have  you  the  S]Mrit  bearing  witness 
with  your  spirit  that  you  are  adopted  into  the  family 


LIFE  OF  (.:.  W.  UENKV. 


137 


of  God  ?  Pause  one  moment,  and  ask  yourself  this 
solemn  and  important  question.  If  the  answer  is  in 
the  negative,  I  care  not  how  many  acres  you  call 
your  own,  or  how  many  honours  of  this  world  you 
enjoy,  unless  you  "  can  read  your  title  clear"  to  that 
heavenly  inheritance,  let  me  tell  you  that  you  are 
a  poor  man,  blind  and  naked. 

By  this  time  I  was  totally  eclipsed,  having  coun- 
selled with  some  of  the  most  eminent  physicians, 
without  any  encouragement  or  prospect  of  the  re- 
covery of  my  sight. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

I  THINK  it  was  ill  the  month  of  May  that  I  spent  a 
Sabbath  in  Martinsburg,  and  at  the  place  where  I 
attended  meeting  there  was  quite  a  revival  of  reli- 
gion among  the  Methodists  and  Lutherans.  The 
text  in  the  morning  was,  "  Awake,  thou  sleeper." 
Every  word  seemed  to  be  directed  to  me,  and 
awakened  the  sleeping  energies  of  my  soul.  I  re- 
turned to  the  hotel  where  before  I  had  passed 
through  that  month  of  severe  illness,  entered  the 
same  chamber,  and  there  in  my  solitude  made  a 
solcnm  covenant  with  Almighty  God  that  I  would, 
from  that  moinent,  set  out  to  seek  his  face  and  fa- 
vour ;  and  that  if  I  died  without  mercy  or  pardon, 
death  should  find  me  in  the  pursuit  of  it.    I  was 


138  TRIALS  ANU  TRIUMl'HS  IN  TIIK 

now  in  good  earnest,  and  tliink  that,  for  the  first 
time  in'  my  life,  I  was  fully  resolved  to  get  religion. 
I  shall  remember  that  vow  in  eternity.  I  felt  as  rf 
it  were  almost  presumptuous  to  seek  the  favour  of 
that  God  whose  mercies  I  had  abused  ever  since  I 
had  reached  the  years  of  accountability.  There  was 
also  to  be  a  meeting  in  the  evening,  and  an  invita- 
tion was  to  be  given  for  mourners  to  present  them- 
selves at  the  altar  of  prayer.  Now  I  had  gained 
tiie  victory  over  the  devil  on  the  start,  and  he  knew 
well  that  my  mind  was  irrevocably  made  up  to  seek 
the  Lord,  and  I  lieard  no  more  suggestions  to  pro- 
crastinate the  day  of  i-epentance,  neither  would  I 
listen  to  any.  I  was  now  as  fully  bent,  and  in  as 
good  earnest  to  obtain  a  heavenly  treasure,  as  I  ever 
■was  before  after  earthly  treasures.  He  therefore 
took  a  new  device,  which  Avas,  as  I  discovered  after 
I  was  converted,  to  set  me  to  earning  lieaven  by  my 
prayers  and  tears.  He  endeavoured  to  make  me 
believe  that  I  knew  all  about  the  plan  of  salvation, 
and  that  better  than  one-half  the  preachers  could 
tell  me,  and  that  I  had  talent  sufficient  to  make  a 
first-rate  prayer  for  a  new  beginner.  When  even- 
ing came,  I  went  to  the  meeting,  with  the  plan 
already  made  up  in  my  mind  how  to  proceed.  I 
intended  to  go  to  work  in  great  earnest,  expecting, 
when  I  had  prayed  to  a  certain  extent,  to  come  out 
shouting  and  happy.  Accordingly,  when  the 
preaching  was  over  and  mourners  were  invited  for- 
ward, I  was  the  first  to  lead  the  ^\ny,  and  several 


LIFE  OK  G.  W.  HEXRV. 


139 


otiiei-s  followed.  I  got  down  on  my  knees  and  be- 
gan to  pray  with  all  my  miglit.  I  felt  that  I  was 
on  dangerous  ground.  The  avenger  of  blood  seemed 
at  my  heels.  I  wept,  mourned,  and  begged  for  life, 
eternal  life.  The  minister  came  and  spoke  to  me, 
but  I  did  not  listen  to  what  he  said,  supposing  I 
knew  quite  as  much  about  the  way  of  salvation  as 
he  did. 

The  meeting  closed  about  ten  o'clock,  and  an  ap- 
pointment was  given  out  for  a  prayer-meeting  at  the 
same  place,  about  sunrise  the  next  moniing.  I  re- 
turned home  to  my  room,  and  prayed  and  wrestled 
much  during  the  night.  The  next  morning,  like 
weeping  Mary,  I  was  among  the  first  at  the  church. 
As  meeting  opened,  I  began  to  pray  audibly  and 
fervently,  but  returned  to  the  hotel,  feeling  the  load 
of  my  sins  growing  heavier. 

My  dear  reader,  whoever  you  are,  let  us  pause 
here  a  moment,  and  consider  the  work  you  are 
reading.  It  is  not  a  sermon ;  not  a  production 
clothed  in  the  habiliments  of  literature,  but  it  is  the 
history  and  experience  of  a  poor  sinner,  brought  by 
the  mercy  of  God  to  see  his  danger  and  seek  salva- 
tion. In  the  preface  of  this  work,  I  exhorted  you 
to  eschew  the  evil  and  embrace  the  good,  if  per- 
chance you  should  find  any  in  such  a  life  of  erroi-s. 
And  in  setting  forth  to  my  various  readers  both 
wisdom  and  folly,  I  am  aware  that  I  subject  myself 
to  the  sneere  and  ridicule  of  the  proud  and  scornful 
wisdomite  of  this  world.    And  to  the  cold,  dead 


140  TRIALS  AND  TIUUMPHS  IN  THE 

Pharisee  and  formalist,  that  part  which  has  most  of 
Christ  hi  it  will  doubtless  be  a  stumbling-block,  and 
will,  perhaps,  appear  weakness  and  folly.  "  When 
I  was  a  child,  I  spake  as  a  child,  I  thought  as  a 
child  :  but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put  away 
childish  things."  1  Cor.  xiii,  11.  I  have  set  forth 
the  follies  and  vanities  of  my  youth,  as  well  as  the 
mistakes  of  my  riper  years ;  and  so,  in  my  Christian 
experience,  you  will  find  I  have  made  many  crooked 
paths,  like  a  lone  wanderer  in  a  dark  night,  seeking 
for  a  lost  home.  When  the  sun  has  risen  and  dis- 
l)elled  the  darkness  of  the  night,  he  can  then  look 
back  and  see  what  a  zig-zag  course  he  has  pursued, 
and  that,  perhaps,  near  some  precipice  or  deep 
cavern,  where  he  might  have  been  dashed  to  pieces, 
or  found  a  watery  grave.  How  will  such  a  one  re- 
joice, when  he  considers  the  hairbreadth  escapes  he 
has  made!  How  will  he  rejoice  when  he  finds 
himself  resting  safely  in  the  bosom  of  those  he  loves. 
Truly  sa3's  the  wise  man,  "  The  light  is  sweet,  and 
a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun." 
If  a  transition  fi-om  a  state  of  darkness  to  a  state  of 
light  be  so  desirable  and  important — if  it  made 
blind  Bai'timeus  leap  for  joy,  when  he  beheld  the 
light  of  the  natural  sun,  displaying  the  beauties  of 
this  world;  would  not  that  soul  have  infinitely 
greater  reason  to  leap  for  joy,  to  have  the  sun  of 
righteousness  arise,  with  healing  in  his  wings,  and 
to  have  the  rays  of  divine  knowledge  beaming  forth 
from  the  Father  of  lights,  into  the  sinner's  dark  un- 


LIFE  OF  G.  \V.  HENRY. 


141 


ilerstantling !  Although  I  never  expect,  like  Bar- 
timeus,  to  behold  the  beauties  of  nature,  or  the  face 
of  mortal  man,  even  that  of  niy  own  dear  wife  and 
children,  yet  I  can  say,  like  one  of  old,  "  one  thing  I 
know,  that,  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see." 

But  let  us  no%  return  to  the  hotel,  where  we 
returned  from  the  morning  i^rayer-meeting.  I 
now  ate  my  breakfast,  well  knowing  the  whisper- 
ings and  remarks  that  were  made  about  me  by 
my  associates,  who  knew  not  God,  and  desired  not 
the  knowledge  of  his  ways.  I  then  got  ready  aq^ 
made  uiy  way  to  Pennsylvania,  apprehensive  of 
what  reception  I  should  meet  with  among  some  of 
my  former  acquaintances,  if  I  made  much  ado 
about  religion ;  not,  perhaps,  that  they  would 
speak  reproachfully  of  religion,  provided  it  met 
their  notions  of  consistency  and  propriety.  But  I 
had  an  adversary  to  face,  one  that  will  never  cease 
to  tempt  and  allure  from  the  path  of  rectitude 
and  safety.  I  have  often  compared  his  devices  and 
allurements  to  the  whippowil,  in  his  management 
with  him  who  is  a  stranger  to  his  wiles.  If,  in 
your  strolls  tlirough  the  mountains  or  hills,  you 
approach  her  nest,  you  will  see  her  all  at  once,  a 
few  feet  before  you,  begin  to  pitch  heels  over  head, 
as  if  a  wing  and  a  leg  had  been  broken  by  a  fowler. 
If  you  follow  her  in  her  lofty  tumbhngs,  for  a 
considerable  distance  at  a  time,  thinking,  at  every 
step,  you  would  seize  her,  thus  she  would  lead 
you  on,  until  she  had  drawn  you  sufficiently  far 


142  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

fi-oni  her  nest,  when  slie  would  suddenly  spread  her 
wing  and  sail  oft',  leaving  you  to  laugii  at  your  own 
folly.  Having  learned  her  devices,  you  would  not 
be  deluded  by  her  again ;  neither  could  the  grand 
advei-sary  so  easily  take  me  the  second  time,  by  the 
same  wiles.  He  was  well  aware  Aat  he  could  not 
induce  me  to  give  up  the  race. 

At  a  certain  time,  when  Bonaparte  invaded  Rus- 
sia, after  he  and  his  army  had  crossed  a  large 
river,  lie  ordered  every  bridge,  boat,  or  floating 
plank  to  be  swept  oft",  to  prevent  a  retreat  of  him- 
self or  his  men.  It  Avas  tlierefore  death  or  victory 
with  them.  So  it  was  with  me.  I  had  swept  oft" 
every  bridge  and  plank,  upon  which  the  devil  had 
so  often  and  so  very  generously  taken  me  back  into 
his  own  dominions.  But  thanks  be  to  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who  gave  me  this  gi'eat  victory  of 
decision !  To  be  thus  decided,  is  half  the  battle. 
As  the  whippowil  allured  me  from  her  nest,  so  the 
enemy  of  my  soul  endeavoured  to  turn  my  eye  of 
faith  from  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  set  me  to  work 
on  the  veiy  same  pi-inciple  upon  which  I  went  to 
work  to  do  a  heavy  contract.  He  told  me,  that 
the  harder  I  laboured  the  sooner  I  should  earn 
salvation.  Instead  of  making  me  feel  it  to  be  a 
cross,  heavy  to  be  borne,  and  as  being  very  humili- 
ating, he  began  to  set  the  springs  of  spiritual  pride 
in  motion,  and  whispered  to  me,  the  first  night, 
that  I  could  pray  a  great  deal  better  than  any  of 
the  mourners  that  came  out  with  me.    That  night 


LIFE  OF  O.  W.  HENRV. 


143 


also  the  bar-keeper,  one  of  his  agents,  said  that  he 
had  told  one  of  his  comrades  that  I  knew  much 
more  about  getting  religion  than  those  that  were 
talking  to  me.  To  that  my  own  proud  heart  wil- 
lingly assented.  And  the  next  day,  going  home,  I 
had  another  very  active  agent  of  his  to  drive  for 
me.  And,  moreover,  I  think  I  rather  courted  some 
compliments  from  him,  relative  to  the  j^erformances 
of  the  evening  and  morning  previous.  I  prayed 
audibly,  in  his  presence,  hefore  I  went  to  bed. 
"Captain,"  said  he,  "you  made  a  first-rate  prayer 
last  night."  lie  also  seemed  to  admire  the  ear- 
nestness I  manifested.  I  then  joined  with  him, 
rather  ridiculing  the  ignorance  of  some  j^eople  in 
trying  to  get  religion,  and  so  I  went  on  till  conviction 
had  nearly  left  me.  However,  I  could  not  be  per- 
suaded by  men  or  devils  that  I  had  religion,  until  I 
knew  for  myself  tliat  I  enjoyed  it.  I  tarried  at 
home  for  about  ten  days,  did  a  certain  amount  of 
praying  both  night  and  day,  and  attended  class- 
meeting  in  Greencastle.  I  believe  there,  for  the 
first  time,  I  made  my  determination  known  to 
them,  and  requested  their  prayei's. 

About  this  time  I  had  business  that  called  me  to 
the  city  of  Washington.  I  went  there  with  my 
brother-in-law,  from  Indiana.  We  took  lodgings 
at  a  boarding-house  on  Pennsylvania  Avenue.  In 
the  morning,  after  breakfast,  while  my  friend  went 
out  for  two  or  three  houi's  on  business,  1  lay  down 
ujion  my  bod,  after  offering  uyi  a  prayer  to  God.  I 


144  TRIALS  AND  TRirMPIlS  IN  THE 


fell  asleep  and  saw  a  vision,  or  had  a  dream,  as  fol- 
lows :  I  thought  I  had  come  to  my  sight.  I  looked 
around  the  room,  which  seemed  filled  with  a  very 
bright  and  unnatural  halo  of  light.  The  first  tiling 
I  did,  or  thought  I  did,  was  to  raise  my  hand  be- 
fore my  eyes  to  prove  whether  it  was  a  dream,  or 
whether  I  had  really  been  brought  to  my  sight.  I 
thought  I  saw  my  hand  plainly ;  but  to  put  it  be- 
yond doubt  that  it  was  not  a  dream,  I  thought  I 
looked  around  the  room  again,  and  it  appeared  to 
be  filled  with  heavenly  light.  I  discovered  the  car- 
pet, chairs,  and  other  furniture  in  the  room,  and 
was  fully  convinced  that  I  was  in  the  city  of  Wash- 
ington, and  had  been  brought  to  my  sight.  But 
that  I  might  have  still  further  proof,  I  thought  I 
went  and  raised  up  the  front  window  of  my  room, 
cast  my  eye  to  one  end  of  the  avenue,  and  then  to 
the  other,  and  saw  the  capitol,  while  the  negroes, 
carriages,  and  all,  were  passing  lively  before  me,  so 
that  every  doubt  was  put  to  flight.  I  did  not  seem 
to  feel  much  joy  or  gratification  in  beholding  the 
things  of  time  and  sense,  for  my  whole  soul  was  ab- 
sorbed in  the  desire  for  spiritual  light.  I  thought  I 
then  knelt  down  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  fer- 
vently prayed  to  God  tliat  this  temporal  sight 
might  be  the  harbinger  of  spiritual  light.  While 
in  this  devotional  exercise  I  awoke,  and  found  my- 
self in  temporal  and  spiritual  blindness  and  dark- 
ness. 

Then  I  think  I  began  for  the  first  time  to  have  a 


LlfE  OF  t;.  \V.  llEMiV. 


145 


taste  of  tlie  joys  of  the  upper  world ;  but  it  was  a 
mere  taste  in  comparison  to  tlie  rich  feasts  of  which 
I  have  been  made  the  happy  partaker  since.  I  be- 
lieved then  as  I  do  now,  that  it  was  a  crumb  from 
my  Master's  table,  which  served  to  increase  my 
faith,  and  encourage  my  soul  on  its  pilgrimage  to 
Canaan. 

Before  I  left  the  city  I  called  on  Dr.  Buel,  a  cel- 
ebrated physician  of  that  place,  who  gave  me  little 
or  no  encouragement  of  ever  receiving  my  sight. 
So  I  returned  home  again  to  Pennsylvania,  and  then 
for  three  or  four  months  I  was  almost  constantly 
travelling  from  place  to  place,  trying  to  settle  up  my 
business.  This  perplexed  my  mind  much,  and 
crowded  out  many  ardent  desires  for  heaven.  I  had 
dealings  with  those  who  made  this  world  their  god, 
and  abundance  of  money  their  heaven.  But  thanks 
be  to  God  I  who  bore  up  my  head  above  the  deep 
waters  and  dashing  waves. 

My  business  now  led  me  to  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
I  had  for  my  guide  a  very  wild  but  pleasant  young 
man,  about  twenty  years  of  age,  a  son  of  Dr.  Boggs. 
He  had  just  emerged  from  college,  and  his  head 
scarcely  entertained  one  serious  thought ;  but,  God 
be  praised !  he  has  since  been  sprinkled  unto  pardon 
and  sanctification  by  the  atoning  blood  of  Jesus, 
and  has  become  a  Methodist  preacher.  We  re- 
mained in  Baltimore  I  think  about  ten  days,  during- 
which  time  I  was  engaged  in  the  daytime  in  settling 
with  the  railroad  company;  and  as  there  were 
10 


140  TRIALS  AAD  TIUUiU'HS  IN  THE 


fourteen  or  fifteen  large  Metliodist  churclies,  if  I 
mistake  not,  in  the  city  of  Baltimore,  I  had  no  diflS- 
culty,  at  any  time,  to  find  some  kind  of  a  Metliodist 
meeting.  I  went  one  night  to  a  love-feast,  in  a  part 
of  the  city  called  Old  Town.  I  was  waited  on  by 
a  young  boy,  a  son  of  the  widow  with  whom  we 
boarded — for  a  Methodist  meeting  would  have  been 
a  purgatory  at  that  time  to  my  friend  Boggs.  At 
the  love-feast  there  were  present  probably  two  hun- 
dred membei-s.  I  heard  one  and  another  in  quick 
succession  give  in  their  testimony,  telling  exactly 
the  day  and  the  hour  when  Crod  for  Christ's  sake 
forgave  all  their  sins :  some  of  them  dating  their 
experience  back  more  than  fifty  yeai-s — others  from 
that  down  to  a  very  few  days  previous — most 
of  them  telling  how  happy  they  then  felt,  and 
expressing  the  lively  hope  they  had  of  ere  long 
enjoying  that  rest  that  remains  for  the  people  of 
God.  I  now  began  to  feel  the  need  of  a  Saviour 
more  than  I  had  ever  before  done,  and  I  arose  and 
told  them  that  I  had  a  different  story  to  tell  them 
from  any  I  had  heard  that  evening — I  could  not 
say  that  I  ever  had  my  sins  forgiven — for  I  then 
felt  them  intolerable  to  bear,  and  desired  all  their 
prayers  for  me.  It  was  not  long  before  a  brother 
came  to  me  and  invited  me  to  come  and  kneel 
down  at  the  altar,  and  the  brethren  would  pray  for 
me,  saying  that  perhaps  God  would  receive  me  into 
his  kingdom  that  night;  so  I  soon  found  myself 
kneeling  at  the  altar,  where  the  most  fervent  prayers 


UFE  OF  U.  W.  HENRY. 


147 


were  put  up  to  the  sinner's  Friend.  But  alas !  I 
was  not  yet  brought  out  of  mj  self,  or  from  self- 
righteousness.  I  arose  from  ray  knees  and  went 
home,  with  a  sorrowful  countenance.  I  told  the 
brethren  I  felt  no  relief,  but  that  I  believed  God 
would  before  long  pardon  my  sins — still  resting 
under  that  dangerous  delusion,  that  it  would  require 
a  great  many  more  j^rayei-s,  and  a  flood  more  of 
tears,  and  more  penance,  before  such  a  sinner,  as  I 
felt  myself  to  be,  would  be  entitled  to  an  interest  in 
Christ.  I  was  building  a  tower  like  that  of  Babel, 
whose  top  should  reach  to  heaven. 

The  next  Saturday  night  I  went  to  street 

Church  to  a  prayer-meeting.  I  had  been  there  be- 
fore, and  my  case  had  been  made  known  to  them. 
The  brethren  prayed  over  me  and  for  me,  but 
seemingly  to  no  eflect.  The  next  day  was  to  be 
comnmnion,  and  I  went  home  with  the  preacher 
that  night,  with  whom  I  had  had  some  acquaintance 
a  few  years  before  in  Pennsylvania.  Morning  came, 
and  I  went  to  church  vdth  him.  I  wept  and 
mourned  during  preaching;  I  felt  that  I  was  an 
awful  sinner ;  and  when  the  brethren  were  invited 
to  commune,  one  came  to  me  and  invited  me  also. 
I  was  at  first  almost  horror-stricken  at  the  idea  of 
such  a  sinner,  as  I  felt  myself,  partaking  of  those 
holy  symbols,  and  I  refused ;  but  being  overper- 
suaded  by  old  professors,  I  concluded  that  they  must 
know  the  way  better  than  I,  and  so  I  yielded,  asking 
God  to  lay  not  the  sin  to  my  charge,  if  it  was  a  sin. 


148  TKIALS  ANU  XKIUMl'IIS  IN  THE 

Thus  for  the  first  time  I  partook,  with  a  trembling 
hand  and  a  fearful  heart,  of  the  sujjper  of  our  Lord. 
O,  what  an  advantage  the  adversary  of  my  soul  took 
on  this  occasion  to  tempt  and  try  me  I — telling  me 
that  if  I  had  prayed  long  enough,  as  I  was  doing, 
I  might  have  been  blessed,  but  now  I  had  eaten  and 
drunk  damnation  to  my  soul !  I  went  home  to  my 
boarding-house,  awfully  fearing  it  was  true,  while  the 
word  reprobate  rung  like  a  death-knell  in  my  ears. 

I  was  now  labouring  under  despair,  mingled  with 
a  very  faint  hope.  I  arose  about  midnight,  felt 
round  the  room  and  found  the  Bible,  and  took 
it  in  my  hands,  solemnly  and  fervently  praying 
God  that  he  would  show  me  some  relief  on  the 
pages,  that  I  might  then  open  and  have  read  to  me 
in  the  morning.  I  then  opened  the  Bible  and  laid 
a  mark  in  it,  and  in  the  morning  I  requested  my 
friend  Boggs  to  read  to  me  the  chapter  I  had  laid  the 
mark  on  as  the  Bible  lay  open.  To  my  astonishment 
he  read  the  eleventh  chapter  of  first  Corinthians, 
which  treated  on  the  very  subject  that  caused  addi- 
tional distress  to  my  soul — feeling  that  I  had  eaten 
and  drunk  unworthily,  not  discerning  the  Lord's 
body.  Whether  it  was  a  mere  matter  of  accident, 
or  a  special  providence,  I  am  unable  to  say ;  but  I 
do  not  know  that  I  received  any  comfort  in  reading 
the  chapter,  not  having  a  spiritual  discernment  of 
what  I  read.  If  I  received  any  strength  from  it,  it 
was  from  the  singular  circumstance  of  turning  to 
that  particular  passage. 


LIFK  OF  C.  W.  HEXRV. 


149 


I  was  now  in  horrible  douLt.  I  went  to  prayer- 
meeting  Monday  niglit  and  tried  to  pray,  but  I  was 
as  cold  and  unfeeling  as  a  heathen  philosopher. 
The  impression  was  now  pretty  well  established  on 
my  mind  that  I  had  either  sinned  away  the  day  of 
grace,  or  (as  I  was  now  rather  inclined  to  Calvinistic 
principles)  that  I  was  quite  likely  a  reprobate ;  all 
feeling  or  desire  to  seek  religion  or  utter  a  prayer 
seemed  to  be  fled,  and  I  seemed  like  Ephraim,  left 
to  myself :  this  was  truly  a  horrible  state  of  mind. 
Thus  I  remained  till  the  next  day  in  the  afternoon. 
Nature  being  exhausted  I  lay  down  upon  my  bed 
and  fell  asleep,  and  again  I  saw  a  vision,  or  dreamed 
that  I  could  see,  and  looking  around  the  room  it 
seemed  to  be  filled  with  unusual  light  of  the  same 
appearance  that  I  saw  at  Washing-ton.  I  then  held 
the  same  soliloqu}-,  doubting  whether  it  w-as  a  dream 
or  in  truth  a  restoration  of  my  sight ;  but  to  remove 
all  doubt  on  the  subject,  I  brought  my  hand  before 
my  eyes  and  thought  I  could  see  it.  The  thought 
then  recurred  to  me  of  my  dream  or  disappointment 
at  Washington,  and  to  be  doubly  sure  I  looked 
around  the  room  again,  which  appeared  to  be  full 
of  bright  glory,  discovering  the  furniture  to  my  view 
in  every  particular.  The  idea  then  arose  in  my 
mind  that  I  was  in  Baltimore,  and  to  satisfy  mvself 
more  fully  of  the  fact,  I  thought  I  raised  my  front 
window.  There  I  viewed  the  stores,  and  the  rail- 
road cars  moving  on — satisfied  myself  of  what 
street  I  was  on,  and  at  the  same  time  it  occurred  to 


150 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


me  that  this  identical  circumstance  was  presented 
to  fne  in  a  dream  at  Washington.  But  now  all 
doubts  were  removed.  I  believed  that  I  was  awake, 
and  that  I  was  really  restored  to  sight.  I  again 
knelt  down  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  as  I  thought, 
without  any  seeming  joy  at  being  restored  to  sight, 
and  prayed  most  fervently  that  this  might  be  a 
token  that  God  had  not  left  me  entirely,  and  that 
the  Sun  of  righteousness  might  yet  arise  upon  me  to 
go  down  no  more  forever.  In  this  attitude  of  devo- 
tion I  opened  my  eyelids  on  total  darkness ;  but  I 
know  that  I  received  another  crumb  from  the  table 
of  the  Lord  ;  I  felt  a  degree  of  heavenly  joy  in  my 
soul,  and  fully  believed  that  it  was  a  token  fi-om  the 
Lord  that  I  had  not  entirely  sinned  away  the  day 
of  grace.  I  was  now  able  to  exercise  considerable 
faith,  and  for  once  had  got  the  victory  over  the 
accuser  of  the  brethren  that  had  been  charging  me 
with  desecrating  the  holy  sacrament,  and  with  being 
a  reprobate,  &c. 

I  was  now  ready  to  return  to  Pennsylvania. 
Soon  after  my  return  home  I  went  to  a  quarterly 
meeting  that  was  held  in  Waynesburg,  Franklin 
County.  Saturday  evening  there  was  a  love-feast 
held  in  the  church.  I  had  been  praying  for  more 
conviction — that  God  would  send  his  arrows  into 
my  soul,  that  I  might  feel  the  stings  of  an  awakened 
conscience,  and  be  shown  the  very  worst  of  my  de- 
ceitful and  corrupt  heart.  I  had  been  in  the  love- 
feast  but  a  little  while  when  I  felt  as  much  pain  as 


LIFE  OF  li.  W.  IIKN'UV. 


151 


soul  and  body  both  could  endure.  The  devil  whis- 
pered to  me  that  it  was  the  cholera  morbus — but  it 
was  a  new  disease  to  me.  A  mourner's  bench  was 
presented,  and  I  came  forward  with  some  others. 
I  groaned  and  begged  for  mercy,  while  hot  and 
bitter  tears  were  following  each  other  in  quick  suc- 
cession down  my  cheeks.  Others  around  me  were 
converted  and  went  off  shouting,  some  perhaps  the 
first  night  tliey  came  forward.  As  for  me,  I  had 
been  weeping  between  the  porch  and  the  altar  for 
many  long  weeks.  I  went  home  under  deeper  con- 
viction perhaps  than  ever,  rather  believing  that  I 
had  received  an  answer  to  my  prayer  that  the  Lord 
would  send  me  deeper  conviction. 

About  this  time  there  was  an  idea  came  into  my 
head  that  I  had  better  go  to  some  other  Church  than 
the  Methodist — that  I  was  perhaps  too  much  preju- 
diced in  favour  of  that  Church  ;  and  my  prayer  was 
then,  "  Lord,  send  me  relief  anywhere  or  in  any  man- 
ner— only  remove  this  grievous  load  of  sin."  So  I 
thought  I  would  make  a  trial  at  the  Presbyterian 
Church  awhile.  Everything  was  there  done  up  with 
decency  and  in  order,  which  is  well-pleasing  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord.  Ceremonies  are  very  good,  and 
doubtless  orthodox ;  but  Christians  sometimes  differ 
in  their  notions  of  decency  and  order  in  spiritual 
thuigs.  No  doubt  there  was  a  great  difference  of 
opinion  on  this  subject  amongst  the  multitude  that 
were  gathered  together  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
when  the  Holy  Ghost  came  upon  them  like  a  mighty 


152  rniALS  and  triumphs  in  the 

rusliing  wind — for  so  is  every  one  that  is  bom  of  the 
Spirit,  John  iii,  8 — when  there  were  tliree  thousand 
converted  in  one  day.  A  certain  portion  of  the 
assembly — Jews — professors  of  religion  too,  pro- 
nounced it  disorderly  and  indecent,  charging  the 
converts  with  being  drunk ;  and  no  doubt  these  had 
that  appearance  to  them  that  were  without  spiritual 
discernment.  We  see  sometliing  of  it  in  these  later 
days — some  that  are  born  into  the  kingdom,  even  at 
the  age  of  fifty  years,  will  leap  and  jump  like  the 
pilgrim  that  Bunyan  describes :  after  he  had  passed 
through  the  wicket-gate  and  began  to  climb  the 
hill,  and  while  he  stood  and  gazed  upon  the  cross, 
beholding  the  heavenly  victim  that  hung  bleeding 
for  him,  his  burden  rolled  off  into  the  sepulchre,  to 
be  remembered  no  more  against  him ;  lie  then 
took  three  leaps  towards  the  celestial  city,  and  went 
on  his  way  rejoicing.  Some,  when  they  are  con- 
verted, are  laid  prostrate  on  tlie  floor;  othei-s  are 
laughing,  and  have  a  new  song  put  into  their  mouths, 
and  shout  Glory !  glory !  and  it  is  as  natural  for  a 
young  convert  to  give  God  the  glory  as  it  is  for  a 
new-born  babe  to  desire  the  breast.  I  mean  now 
that  man  that  God  has  spoken  peace  to — not  like 
the  man  that  Mr.  Whitefield  speaks  of  as  meeting 
him  in  the  street  in  London,  who  staggered  up  to 
him  and  addressed  him  very  affectionately  after 
this  manner  :  "  Brothei'  Whitefield,  I  am  glad  to  see 
you,  for  you  are  the  very  man  that  converted  my 
soul  at  such  a  meeting."    "Ah,"  saj's  Whitefield, 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENKV. 


153 


you  look  like  some  of  my  work !  If  God  liad  con- 
verted you,  you  would  not  now  be  staggering  under 
the  influence  of  rum."  Alas !  I  awfully  fear  that 
many  have  had  peace  spoken  to  them  by  their 
preacher  when  God  has  not  spoken  the  life-giving 
word,  and  are  rocked  to  sleep  in  the  Church  in  a 
state  of  carnal  security.  May  God  awaken  the 
sleeping  reader  ere  he  sleeps  the  sleep  of  eternal 
death  1  Yes ;  no  doubt  many  of  the  Jews  were 
highly  displeased  at  the  order  of  things  when  tliree 
thousand  new  bottles  were  filled  with  new  wine  from 
the  kingdom  at  once.  Every  man  that  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  is  a  new  creature ;  and  who  will  say  that  it 
was  out  of  order  or  indecent,  although  one-half  of 
that  number  had  staggered  and  fiiUen,  and  the  other 
half  had  been  shouting  glory  in  every  language  ? 
Do  you  think,  reader,  that  God  was  not  pleased  with 
liis  own  work  on  that  occasion  ?  Tliat  was  my  no- 
tion of  decency  and  order  then,  and  it  has  been  con- 
firmed by  experience  since.  I  am  wilhng  to  let  God 
work  in  his  own  "mysterious  way,  his  wonders  to 
perform."  I  would  not  wish  to  be  understood  that 
there  are  none  born  into  the  kingdom  without  all 
these  outward  demonstrations.  O  no!  some  he 
approaches  in  the  still  small  voice,  and  they  are 
melted  into  tenderness,  and  love,  and  joy,  and 
peace.  But  to  return  to  the  chain  of  my  own  ex- 
perience. 

I  found  no  relief  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  but 
began  to  feel  less  conviction,  and  was  told  more  than 


154 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


once,  by  professoi's  of  religion,  that  I  had  really  got 
religion^ — assigning,  as  the  reason  for  the  opinion, 
that  I  did  not  feel  the  weight  of  guilt  and  sin  as  I 
had  a  few  days  previous,  saying  that  the  difficulty 
with  me  was  that  I  would  not  acknowledge  it.  I 
thank  God  for  early  impressions,  and  for  lia\'ing 
been  reared  by  one  that  believed  in  that  religion 
that  is  attended  with  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
that  is  manifested  with  power  from  on  high.  Is 
not  this  a  rock  on  which  thousands  have  split? 
When  the  Holy  Ghost  has  ceased  for  a  time  to  re- 
prove them  of  sin,  of  righteousness,  and  of  judgment, 
(which  is  not  religion,  but  only  a  trial  of  their  faith,) 
they  settle  down  under  this  sickening  calm.  But 
all  their  arguments  to  convince  me  that  I  had  got 
religion  were  but  as  chaft"  to  me.  I  wanted  to  feel 
some  of  the  joy  and  happiness  that  I  had  heard  my 
old  mother  so  often  speak  of  and  seemingly  mani- 
fest, as  well  as  many  other  Christian  witnesses,  and 
of  that  Comforter  that  the  Bible  speaks  so  much  of. 

About  this  time  I  was  in  Greencastle,  Pa.,  at  a 
hotel  where  I  had  frequently  boarded.  In  the  after- 
noon I  retired  to  ray  room  to  obtain  sleep.  After 
falling  asleep,  I  dreamed  I  saw  the  same  vision 
precisely  which  I  had  seen  before  in  Washington 
and  in  Baltimore.  I  dreamed  I  saw  that  same 
glorious  and  unnatural  light  filling  the  room,  and, 
strange  as  it  may  appear,  I  thought  I  had  been 
brought  to  my  sight ;  and,  to  prove  the  fact,  I  again 
brought  my  hand  before  my  face,  and  again  held 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIEXRV. 


155 


the  same  soliloquy,  recalling  to  my  mind  the  two 
former  dreams  as  clearly  and  as  distinctly  as  if  I 
had  really  been  awake.  But  to  put  the  case  be- 
yond all  doubt,  I  looked  minutely  at  the  particular 
kind  of  calico  of  which  the  bed-quilt  was  made,  as 
well  as  at  the  furniture  and  the  room,  beliering  fully 
that  I  was  in  Greencastle ;  and  to  be  still  more  sure, 
if  possible,  I  raised  the  window,  as  in  the  other 
places,  and  beheld  the  boys  playing  in  the  streets, 
and  recognised  them.  I  then  knelt,  as  I  thought 
that  I  had  been  brought  to  sight,  and,  while  praying 
fen-ently  for  spiritual  light,  my  eyes  opened  again, 
as  before,  on  darkness.  I  had  another  crumb  fi-om 
my  Master's  table,  and  felt  some  of  the  joys  of  the 
upper  world.  # 
I  now  began  to  look  forward  to  a  camp-meeting 
that  was  appointed  to  take  place  on  the  fifth  of 
August,  by  the  Metliodists,  about  two  miles  and  a 
half  from  my  father-in-law's  :  here  I  hoped  to  find 
relief.  Having  witnessed  the  power  of  God  at  camj)- 
meeting-s  in  my  early  days,  and  having  heard  so 
many  witnesses  date  their  convei-sion  and  happy  de- 
liverance from  the  dominion  of  the  power  of  dark- 
ness at  such  meetings,  I  had  at  this  time  faith  to 
believe  that  God  would  bless  me  there.  Accord- 
ingly, I  went  at  the  beginning  of  the  meeting.  The 
first  two  days  were  very  rainy,  and  the  Methodists 
did  not  seem  to  get  fairly  into  the  stream.  The 
third  day  came,  and  I  began  to  feel  that  time  was 
precious  and  swiftly  passing  away,  and  that  unless  I 


156  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


got  relief  at  that  camp-meeting,  I  slioiild  be  iire- 
trievably  lost. 

At  evening,  before  the  horn  sounded  for  preach- 
ing, there  was  a  prayer-meeting  in  one  of  the  tents, 
where  some  were  shouting  glory,  others  mourning 
as  the  dove  and  chattering  as  the  swallow,  while 
many  voices,  male  and  female,  were  mingled  in  fer- 
vent prayer  for  the  mourning  souls.  I  was  knelt  at 
the  bench,  wrestling  for  eternal  life.  Now  the  horn 
sounds  for  preacliing.  A  suggestion  came  to  me 
that  there  was  too  much  excitement  there  for  me, 
and  I  had  heard  Christians  tell  of  getting  religion 
alone  under  some  tree  in  the  woods ;  so  I  took  the 
little  boy  that  was  my  guide,  and  directed  him  to 
lead  me  a  considerable  distance  down  into  the 
woods.  Now,  it  was  a  rainy,  dark,  and  dismal  night ; 
and  when  we  arrived  at  a  place  a  considerable  dis- 
tance from  the  camp-ground,  Avhere  I  supposed  I 
should  be  unmolested  by  the  footsteps  of  any  human 
being,  and  where  the  eye  of  God  only  was  upon  me, 
there  I  resolved  to  wrestle,  like  Jacob,  until  he 
should  bless  me.  It  was  with  some  difficulty  that 
I  could  persuade  my  little  boy  to  go  away  and  leave 
me  in  that  dark  and  lonesome  spot ;  but,  as  he  left 
me,  I  charged  him  to  say  nothing  to  any  one  where 
I  was. 

I  then  knelt  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  the  cold  rain 
pattering  upon  me,  and  chilling  me  to  the  vitals. 
My  tongue  seemed  to  be  almost  silent  and  lifeless ; 
I  could  scarcely  utter  a  word  that  could  be  construed 


LIFE  OF  G.  VV.  HENKY. 


157 


into  a  prayer ;  and,  instead  of  its  being  a  retired  and 
quiet  spot,  it  seemed  that  all  the  devils  about  the 
camp-ground  Avere  sent  that  way  to  disturb  me — 
cursing,  swearing,  and  blackguarding,  and  occasion- 
ally throwing  sticks  at  me,  but  none  cam^up  to 
harm  me.  So  I  remained  in  this  doleful  situ!^jon 
until  after  preaching,  when  my  little  boy  came  and 
led  me  back  to  the  camp.  It  being  so  rainy,  I 
think  they  had  no  prayer-meeting  after  preaching, 
and  I  went  home  that  night  without  feeling  any  relief. 

The  next  day  and  evening  there  was  preaching ; 
after  the  sermon  closed,  at  eight  or  nine  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  mom-ners  Avere  invited  to  come  forward. 
Now,  I  had  got  Calvinistic  reprobation  nearly  dis- 
posed of,  and  my  prayer  before  I  went  out  to  the^ 
bench  was,  that  God,  by  some  display  of  Wr 
power,  would  convince  me  that  he  had  not  left  me 
to  myself.  I  went  forward  deliberately,  but  with 
awful  solemnity,  and  knelt  down,  feeling  that  I  was 
hanging  by  a  slender  thread  over  the  gulf  of  dark 
despair.  O !  how  indescribable  were  my  feelings 
at  that  time !  But  I  had  not  been  there  more  than 
two  or  three  minutes  before  a  sudden  trembling, 
or  a  spasm,  seized  me,  and  I  was  laid  prostrate  on 
my  back,  as  you  would  lay  over  an  infant.  The 
brethren  would  often  tell  me  to  exercise  faith,  and 
to  believe  the  promises  of  God,  which  I  thought  I 
had  a  full  belief  of,  and  I  have  since  discovered  that 
I  had  ;  but  it  was  not  a  saving  belief — it  y<  as  a  mere 
historical  faith. 


158 


TKIALS  AND  TKIUMl'HS  IK  THE 


While  I  lay  thus  upon  my  back  the  devil  introduc- 
ed to  me  Unitaiianism,  and  upon  that  I  undertook  to 
exercise  my  faith.  I  would  direct  my  mind  to  the 
Saviour  kneeling  in  the  garden — follow  him  to 
Pilat^Pfcall — then  to  the  top  of  Calvary — view  him 
n^d  to  the  cross — thence  to  the  tomb  of  Joseph 
of  Arimathea — witness  his  resurrection  and  ascen- 
sion to  the  skies,  and,  just  as  he  was  about  to  enter 
the  upper  regions,  there  would  seem  to  be  something 
like  a  meteor  flash  over  the  sky  at  the  place  where 
he  entered.  At  this  juncture  of  the  case  I  would 
be  thrown  into  spasms,  dreadfully  convulsed  and 
cramped.  Now,  the  great  trouble  with  me  was  to 
get  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  united  in  one. 
I  would  get  my  eye  upon  the  Saviour  in  one  place, 
God  sitting  upon  his  throne  as  an  earthly  potentate, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost  as  something  so  intangible,  so 
to  speak,  that  I  could  not  get  them  fixed  together 
so  as  to  make  them  but  one  God.  In  this  position  I 
lay  in  silent  but  sensible  invocation  for  perhaps  two 
hours,  being  fully  resolved  if  there  was  any  such 
thing  as  my  exercising  faith  that  I  would  do  it  that 
night.  The  devil  made  me  believe  I  had  liit  on  the 
right  plan,  and  that  I  was  perfectly  orthodox,  and 
that  if  I  could  only  manage  to  unite  the  Trinity  into 
one  tangible  fonn,  I  should  gain  my  desired  object. 
So  soon  as  I  was  relieved  from  the  convulsions  of 
my  body,  I  would  begin  with  the  Saviour  at  Geth- 
semane,  and  follow  him  step  by  step  until  his  ascen- 
sion into  heaven  ;  then  that  same  flash  would  vividly 


LIFK  OF  U.  W.  UENKY. 


159 


display  itself,  and  that  instant  I  would  be  thrown 
into  cramp  convulsions.  Thus  I  was  bufteted  with 
Arianisni,  until  the  brethren  took  me  into  the  tent 
perfectly  sensible  of  my  situation,  being  convinced 
that  now  some  other  plan  must  be  tried,  a^that  it 
was  in  vain  for  me  to  attempt  to  unite  the  ir^^^ri- 
ous  Three  in  One.  ' 

So,  retiring  to  bed  nearly  worn  out  with  exhaust- 
ion, I  fell  asleep.  The  next  day  I  went  home  and 
tried  to  gather  up  a  little  rest,  determined  to  make 
another  effort  that  night  for  heaven.  Between 
simdown  and  dark  I  mounted  my  horse,  vnth.  my 
little  boy  on  behind  me,  to  make  my  way  to  meet- 
ing. It  thundered  and  lightened  very  hard  on  our 
way  thither.  Just  before  we  turned  down  to  the 
camp  I  saw  a  flash  of  lightning  as  plainly  as  ever  I 
saw  one  in  my  life.  You  will  not  forget,  reader, 
that  your  author  was  all  this  time  totally  blind.  I 
spoke  to  my  boy  and  asked  him  if  that  was  not  an 
extraordinary  flash  of  lightning  ?  He  replied,  "  Did 
you  see  it  ?"  I  told  him  I  did.  He  then  asked  me 
if  I  saw  that  one  that  had  flashed  that  moment 
with  equal  glare.  I  told  him  I  did  not.  Now,  this 
strengthened  my  faith.  I  believed  it  to  be  ominous 
of  something  good  ;  so  I  entered  the'  camp  with  a 
pretty  good  hope  that  I  should  soon  be  blessed.  It 
being  very  rainy,  there  was  no  mourner's  bench  set 
out.  I  went  into  a  prayer-meeting  in  a  tent  ad- 
joining the  one  where  I  lodged.  I  tried  to  pray, 
and  seemed  to  have  more  Uberty  in  prayer  than 


160  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

usual ;  and  before  I  left  tlie  tent,  at  twelve  o'clock, 
I  began  to  feel  the  cla)^-star  rising  in  my  soul.  I 
went  into  my  lodging,  which  was  literally  filled, 
with  the  exception  of  a  space  large  enough  for  me 
to  lie  d|wn  between  a  hardened  old  sinner  and  one 
of  brethren.  I  committed  my  soul  to  God  in 
prayer,  and  laid  down,  feeling  a  little  hghter  than  I 
did  the  night  before  when  I  laid  down. 

All,  I  believe,  were  asleep,  with  the  exception  of 
an  elderly  maiden  sister,  by  the  name  of  Catharine 
Acre ;  she  was  bowed  down  with  the  rickets  from  her 
youth;  her  moral  as  well  as  her  physical  features 
had  ever  been  to  me  as  a  root  out  of  dry  ground, 
for,  like  every  other  sinner,  I  saw  no  beauty  in  deep, 
fervent  piety,  no  more  than  I  did  in  her  hunchback, 
I  had  been  for  months  previous  travelling  through 
Virginia,  Washington  City,  Baltimore,  and  other 
places,  running  after  great  preachers,  and  found  no 
relief.  Little  did  I  think  that  I  was  to  be  convert- 
ed under  a  sermon  of  less  than  five  minutes  in 
length  from  aunt  Kitty  ;  but  I  do  believe  that  God 
kept  her  awake  that  night  to  preach  to  me,  for  it  is 
written :  "  He  has  chosen  the  weak  things  of  this 
world  to  confound  the  wisdom  of  the  wise,  and 
things  that  are  base  and  despised  hath  God  chosen 
to  bring  to  naught  things  that  are ;"  giving  for  a 
reason,  "  that  no  flesh  or  minister  should  glory  in  his 
presence." 

She  then  began  to  talk  about  the  simplicity  of 
saving  faith,  and  what  an  easy  thing  it  was  to  lay 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIENKY. 


161 


hold  of  the  Saviour,  if  we  could  but  come  down  as  a 
little  child  in  asking  a  parent  for  bread.  I  then  be- 
gan to  renew  some  of  the  dealings  of  the  Lord 
with  me.  I  began  back  at  the  Sabbath  that  he 
turnetl  me  back  when  on  my  way  to  Berkley 
Springs,  and  then  his  taking  my  idol  child  the  same 
day — then  my  month's  sickness  in  Martinsburg — 
the  scattering  of  my  proi>erty  to  the  four  winds — 
my  rescue  from  a  waterj-  grave — my  three  singular 
visions  at  Washington,  Baltimore,  and  Greencastle, 
and  the  flash  of  lightning  I  had  seen  the  night  be- 
fore. All  these  convince<l  me  that  God  was  with 
me  in  all  these  things.  I  then  took  a  review  of  the 
many  ways  I  had  tried  to  exercise  faith,  and  said, 
Now,  Lord,  I  know  of  no  way  that  I  have  not  tried, 
and,  like  Peter  when  he  was  sinking  in  the  deep,  I 
cried  :  "  Lord,  thou  must  save,  or  I  perish  forever  1" 
At  that  moment  the  blessed  Redeemer  appeared 
imto  me  the  one  altogether  lovely — that  moment 
God,  for  Christ's  sake,  forgave  all  my  sins. 

"  Hail,  my  blessed  Jesus, 

Only  thee  I  wish  to  slug; 
To  my  sonl  thy  name  is  precious, 

Thou  my  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King. 
"  0,  what  mercy  flows  from  heaven, 

O,  what  joy  and  happiness ! 
Love  I  much  ? — I 've  much  forgiven — 

I  'nra  miracle  of  grace. 
"  Once,  with  Adam's  race  in  ruin, 

l^nconcem'd  in  sin  I  lay ; 
Swift  destruction  still  pursuing. 

Till  my  Saviour  pass'd  that  way. 
11 


162 


TJUALb  ANU  TKUMI'llS  1\  lilt 


"  Witness,  all  ye  hosts  of  heaven, 
My  Redeemer's  tenderness ! 

Love  I  much? — I 've  much  forgiven — 
I 'm  a  miracle  of  grace. 

"  Shout,  ye  bright  angelic  choir  ; 

Praise  the  Lamb  enthron'd  above  ; 
While  astonished,  I  admire 

God's  free  grace  and  boundless  love. 

"  That  bless'd  moment  I  rcceiv'd  him, 
Fill'd  my  soul  with  joy  and  peace  ; 

Love  I  much? — I 've  much  forgiven— 
I 'm  a  miracle  of  grace." 


CHAPTER  X. 

Here,  reader,  you  behold  a  sinner  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  after  crossing  the  line  of  accountability  to 
God,  safely  -within  the  gates  of  the  city  of  refuge, 
and  for  the  first  time  feeling  that  blood  applied  to 
his  soul  which  speaketh  better  things  than  that  of 
Abel.  This  was  the  new  birth.  Here  were  some 
fruits  from  the  tree  of  life ;  here  were  grapes  and 
pomegranates  from  the  holy  land ;  and  here  was  a 
full  and  experimental  proof  that  the  kingdom  of 
grace  is  not  of  meats  and  drinks — of  outward  forms 
and  ceremonies — but  that  the  fundamental  and  soul- 
olieering  principles  of  the  true  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  are  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
CJhost.  I  was  now  prepared  to  say,  with  the  psalm- 
ist :  "  Collie  unto  me,  all  ye  that  fear  the  Lord,  and 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENKV. 


1G3 


T  will  tell  you  Avhat  he  hath  done  for  my  soul :  as 
far  as  the  east  is  from  the  west,  so  far  hath  he  sep- 
arated my  sins  from  me."  I  needed  not  mortal 
man  to  come  and  say  to  me,  "  Brother  Henry,  you 
liave  got  religion  if  you  will  only  believe  it."  O  no  ! 
Gloiy  be  to  God,  I  knew  it  for  myself,  for  I  had  the 
wtness  within  me,  for  the  first  time,  that  my  Re- 
deemer lived ;  and  because  he  lived,  I  should  live 
with  him,  for  Jesus  said  to  his  disciples,  "  In  that 
day  ye  shall  know  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  you  in 
me,  and  I  in  you."  Christ  was  then  formed  within, 
the  hope  of  glory. 

iSTow  I  had  been  able,  through  feith,  to  spring 
the  bolt  that  had  barred  out  the  sinner's  Friend, 
when  he  was  saying,  "  Behold,  I  stand  at  the  door 
and  knock ;  if  any  man  will  hear  my  voice  and  open 
unto  me,  I  will  come  in  and  sup  with  him^  and  he 
with  me."  Yes,  dear  reader,  I  was  then  entertaining 
the  King  of  Kings  and  Lord  of  Lords.  O  what  a 
heavenly  honour  for  a  poor  fallen  rebel !  He  that 
had  been  as  a  root  out  of  dry  ground  to  me,  with- 
out form  or  comeliness,  now  appeared  most  divinely 
fair  and  beautiful. 

I  had  prescribed  many  ways,  during  the  hours  of 
iny  conviction,  in  which  I  should  be  brought  out, 
but  all  my  plans  and  notions  proved  futile  and 
illusive.  The  moment  that  I  received  the  pledge  of 
love,  pardon  and  peace,  I  broke  out  into  an  in- 
voluntary laughter  that  might  have  been  heard  all 
over  the  camp-ground,  which  continued,  perhaps, 


164 


TRIALS  AND  TKIUMPHS  IN  TUE 


for  five  minutes  ;  and,  as  soon  as  I  could  articulate  a 
word,  I  shouted,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  "  Glory 
to  God" — for  my  soul  was  full  of  glory  and  of  God. 

By  this  time  our  tent  was  surrounded  with  a  cloud 
of  living  witnesses  that  had  been  waked  up — not 
by  the  gToanings  and  cries  of  the  poor  blind  man — 
but  by  shouts  and  a  new  song  of  praise  unto  Him 
that  had  given  the  victory.  About  this  time  sister 
Keagy,  whose  tent  I  was  in,  came  and  sat  down  by 
my  head  and  sung  a  heavenly  anthem,  seemingly 
with  an  angelic  voice;  fancy  then  pictured  her  to 
me  as  a  heavenly  messenger,  clothed  in  white 
raiment ;  and  her  appearance  is  equally  vivid  to  my 
mind's  eye  at  the  present  time,  and  no  doubt  will 
so  continue  till  I  meet  brother  and  sister  Keagy  the 
other  side  of  Jordan,  when  faith  will  be  swallowed 
I    up  in  sight,  and  hope  in  full  fruition  lost — 

"  Where  the  saints  of  all  ages  in  harmony  meet, 
Their  Saviour  and  brethren  transported  to  greet ; 
Where  anthems  of  rapture  unceasingly  roll, 
And  the  smile  of  the  Lord  is  the  feast  of  the  soul." 

Perhaps,  in  this  most  important  period  of  my 
whole  life,  it  may  be  well  to  pause  for  a  moment 
and  review  the  dangerous  road  over  which  we  have 
just  travelled.  And  you  will  allow  me  to  exhort 
you,  my  dear  reader,  to  enter  in  at  this  strait 
gate,  otherwise  you  cannot  go  down  to  your  grave 
in  peace ;  unless  you  are  blessed  and  holy  in  this 
life,  you  can  have  no  part  in  the  fii-st  resurrection, 
as  I  understand  the  Scriptures.    I  do  not  mean  this 


LIFE  OF  C;.  W.  HENRY. 


165 


book  to  be  in  the  least  tinctured  with  sectarianism ; 
but,  as  our  Saviour  said  to  Nicodemus,  "  We  speak 
that  which  we  do  know,  and  testify  that  which  we 
have  seen."  John  iii,  11.  Alas!  how  willing  will 
many  of  my  readers  be  to  believe  that  part  of  my 
book  which  recounts  the  follies  and  wickedness  of 
the  days  of  my  youth,  as  well  as  the  business  mis- 
takes of  my  riper  years,  while  what  relates  to  divine 
and  holy  things  will  be  disbelieved  or  rejected  by 
the  unconverted. 

But  you  know  you  have  the  privilege  of  receiving 
or  rejecting  any  portion  of  these  pages  you  please. 
The  prophet  Isaiah  saith,  "Who  has  believed  our 
report,  and  unto  whom  has  the  arm  of  the  Lord  been 
revealed?"  Every  soundly  converted  Christian 
must  believe  the  report.  Yes,  you  may  bring  a 
thousand  men  and  women  together  into  one  assembly, 
who  ha\e  been  truly  sprinkled  unto  pardon  and 
sanctification  by  the  blood  of  Jesus,  and  who  are 
now  travelling  on  the  King's  highway  of  holiness, 
and  let  them  give  in  their  testimony,  and  there 
will  be  found  none  conflicting,  and  there  \vill  be 
no  denial  of  this  heaven-born  principle,  notwith- 
standing Providence  may  have  had  a  way  peculiar 
to  each  indi\adual  in  bringing  him  through  the 
strait  gate:  some  may  have  come  in  leaping 
and  shouting,  others  may  have  been  melted  as  wax- 
before  the  sun.  But  you  will  hear  them  all  agree 
in  this  one  important  point,  that  they  know  they 
have  entered  through  the  door  into  the  sheepfold. 


160  TRIALS  AND  TIUUMl'lIS  IK  THE 

Altlioiigh  they  may  belong  to  different  denomina- 
tions, yet  they  have  one  shepherd,  and  they  know 
his  voice.  Yes,  there  may  be  twenty  different  de- 
nominations, each  having  its  own  pecuHar  notions 
of  Church  government — speaking  as  many  different 
tongues,  if  you  please,  as  were  heard  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost — still  there  will  be  found  harmony  of 
sentiment  as  to  the  new  birth — they  all  speak  the 
language  of  Canaan.  I  defy  the  critic,  the  sceptic, 
or  the  infidel,  to  tell  from  the  testimony  they  give 
what  denomination  they  belong  to.  Yes,  glory  be 
to  God !  some  of  every  nation  and  kindred,  of  all 
sorts  and  ages,  shall  stand  in  that  blessed  assembly 
at  the  last.  Dear  reader,  what  are  your  prospects  ? 
—should  this  lamp  of  life  be  blown  out  at  your 
next  breath,  would  you  be  left  in  the  dark,  or 
would  a  convoy  of  bright  angels  waft  your  dis- 
embodied spirit  to  realms  of  endless  bliss,  to  join 
the  blood-washed  throng?  Pause,  reflect,  examine 
your  hope — see  if  you  can  read  your  title  clear 
to  that  inheritance  that  is  incorruptible  and  full 
of  gloiy. 

As  it  is  the  great  object  of  this  work  that  the 
reader  may  profit  even  by  my  loss,  not  only  in 
temporal  but  in  spiritual  things,  it  were  well  to 
review  some  features  of  my  spiritual  life  tlius  far. 
In  looking  back  upon  my  wanderings  from  the  time 
I  made  a  solemn  league  and  covenant  with  God 
to  seek  his  face  till  I  should  find  mercy,  I  find  it 
was  five  months  before  I  entered  in  at  the  strait 


LIKE  OF  Ci.  W.  IIENKV. 


1(37 


gate,  auJ  my  track  was  meandeiing  and  diflieiilt, 
like  the  wandering  of  the  Israelites  forty  years  in 
the  wilderness.  But  there  is  a  nearer  and  less  dif- 
ficult way  to  come  to  Christ.  He  was  just  as  ready 
to  receive  me  into  his  kingdom  the  fii-st  day  of 
my  conviction  of  sin,  had  I  come  to  him  with  full 
purpose  of  heart,  as  he  was  at  the  end  of  my  five 
months'  moiuning  and  sorrow.  Wlien  tlie  children  of 
Israel  had  been  bitten  by  fiery  serpents,  Moses  was 
ordered  to  make  a  serpent  of  brass  and  set  it  upon  a 
pole,  with  a  promise  that  whenever  a  person  was  bit- 
ten, if  he  looked  upon  the  serpent  of  brass,  he  should 
be  healed.  This  remedy  was  too  simple  to  be  be- 
lieved— and  much  people  of  Israel  died — wliile  they 
were  ransacking  Arabia  from  the  Red  Sea  to  Jordan 
for  some  other  antidote  for  the  pangs  of  the  poison- 
ous serpent — gazing  at  the  same  time  with  sorrow 
upon  their  putrefying  wounds ;  but  every  one  that 
did  look  was  healed,  however  desperate  might  have 
been  his  case.  So  it  was  with  me :  instead  of 
looking  at  the  great  Antitype  that  was  lifted  up  on 
the  cross,  with  the  promise  from  God  that  whoso- 
ever believed  on  him  should  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life,  I  was  gazing  on  my  mountain  of 
sins — on  everything  but  him  who  was  lifted  up  for 
the  healing  of  the  nations.  But,  glory  be  to  his 
name  I  I  was  not  left  to  die  in  the  wilderness. 
There  was  yet  balm  in  Gilead — 

"  When  all  the  doctors'  opiates  fail, 
This  fraud  specific  will  prevail."' 


HiH  IIUAl.S  AND  Tim  MI'HS  I\  THE 


f  was  as  ignorant  of  the  true  and  living  way  as 
the  poor  old  negro,  who,  like  myself,  inquiring  what 
he  should  do  to  be  saved,  was  told  that  he  must 
work  out  his  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling ; 
and  accordingly  he  went  to  work  on  his  own  hook, 
praying  and  labouring,  weeping  and  mourning  for 
many  long  months,  till  nature  was  nearly  exhausted, 
when  he  was  constrained  to  cry  out  in  sore  lamen- 
tation, "  0,  good  Lord  and  Massa !  I  have  been 
working  all  the  ways  I  know  of  to  obtain  salvation, 
but  have  been  growing  worse  and  worse — and  if 
dar  be  any  help  in  de  world  for  poor  nigger,  you  'II 
have  to  do  it!"  And  that  moment  poor  Cato 
shouted.  Glory! 

This  is  the  true  saving  faith — when  we  are 
brought  out  of  ourselves,  and  when  we  make  a  full 
sni  render  of  all  we  have  and  all  we  are  into  the 
hands  of  Christ. 

"  But  drops  of  grief  can  ne'er  repay 

The  debt  of  love  I  owe ; 
Here,  Lord,  I  give  myself  away, 

'T  is  all  that  I  can  do." 

Yes,  here  was  the  great  mistake  with  me — I  was 
filled  too  much  with  my  own  wisdom  and  my  own 
works — asking  God  to  convert  me  for  my  prayers 
and  tears.  If  these  would  gain  heaven,  it  would 
supersede  the  necessity  of  a  Saviour :  therefore  it  is 
of  faith  and  not  of  works,  that  it  may  be  of  grace. 
But  true  repentance  and  prayers  of  faith  are  the 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIKNRY. 


169 


means  appointed  by  our  Heavenly  Father  to  obtain 
tlie  blessings  he  designs  to  give. 

Now,  reader,  please  go  back  -with  me  to  that  hap- 
py morning,  which  was  the  10th  of  August,  1842, 
and  just  before  the  break  of  day,  when  I  was  visited 
by  the  day-spring  from  on  high,  and  when  the  sun 
of  righteousness  dispelled  all  darkness  and  doubt 
and  fear  from  my  soul.  Here  you  see  my  mourn- 
ing turned  into  laughter — my  sorrowing  into  shout- 
ing— and  my  bitter  tears  into  tears  of  delight.  He 
that  is  in  Christ  is  a  new  creature.  Yes,  I  felt  that 
old  tilings  were  done  away,  and  all  things  had  be- 
come new.  Probably  I  enjoyed  the  same  feeling 
of  triumph  that  made  David  feel  as  if  he  could  run 
through  a  troop  and  leap  over  a  wall.  I  had  in 
my  mind's  eye  a  perfect  view  of  the  encampment — 
and  I  had  faith  to  believe  that  I  could  walk  right 
upon  the  preacher's  stand  alone,  and,  like  Paul  on 
Mars'  Hill,  preach  Jesus  and  the  resurrection.  But, 
like  Peter  walking  on  the  water,  my  faith  might 
have  failed  me.  It  was  to  me  like  the  vision  of 
Balaam,  when  he  said,  "  How  goodly  are  thy  tents, 
O  Jacob,  and  thy  tabernacles,  O  Israel!"  The 
morning  sun  arose,  dispelling  darkness  from  the 
earth,  shining  upon  the  evil  and  the  good,  and 
lightening  the  pathway  of  the  rich  and  poor,  the 
white  and  black;  but  Providence  in  mercy  had 
dropped  the  sable  curtain  between  me  and  the 
lovely  face  of  nature — I  had  looked  for  the  last 
time  on  the  sun,  the  moon  and  the  stars — for 


170  TllIALS  AND  TRU  MrilS  I.V  IIIK 

tlie  last  time  had  my  eyes  belield  my  dear  moth- 
er, my  ~  loving  wife  and  tender  children,  till  the 
morning  of  the  resurrection,  when  Jesus  shall  come 
again,  with  legions  of  angels,  to  gather  up  his  jew- 
els. "  They  shall  be  mine  in  that  day,  saith  the 
Lord."  Although  he  had  shut  out  this  vain  world 
forever  from  my  sight,  yet,  glory  be  to  his  holy 
name,  he  had  now  opened  to  my  view  an  infinitely 
brighter  and  happier  world,  where  Jesus  bid  me 
come — and  whoever  will  may  come. 

As  I  arose  in  the  morning  and  was  washing  my 

face  and  hands,  sister  S  approached  me  with 

the  morning  salutation,  and  said,  "Well,  captain, 
you  are  washing  ?"  "  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  glory  to 
( Tod,  I  am  washed :"  and  I  felt  what  I  said,  that  I 
was  washed  from  my  sins  in  the  laver  of  regenera- 
tion— my  feet,  my  hands,  my  head  and  my  heart ; 
and  that  moment  faith  brought  a  fresh  supply  of 
heavenly  joy  into  my  soul,  which  caused  me  to 
break  out  into  loud  and  hearty  laughter.  She  then 
remarked  that  her  aunt,  who  slept  with  her  a  few 
tents  distant,  was  quite  distressed  when  she  heard 
me  laugh  so  heartily  a  few  hours  previous,  saying 
that  poor  Captain  Henry  had  become  a  maniac  and 
lost  his  mind.  "Yes,"  said  I,  "I  have  lost  the  old 
carnal  mind,  and  received  in  the  place  of  it  the 
mind  that  was  in  Christ  Jesus."  This  good  aunt, 
like  Nicodemus,  had  come  by  night,  not  to  inquire 
what  she  should  do  to  be  saved,  for  she  sat  in  one 
of  the  high  seats  of  the  synagogue  when  at  home, 


LIFK  OF  G.  W.  HENRV. 


171 


but  perhaps  to  gratify  her  curiosity  with  Methodist 
dehision.  Nor  was  her  remark  intended  as  sar- 
casm, for  she  was  a  friend  of  mine,  and  a  well-wisher 
of  religion ;  but,  like  the  Jews,  she  had  never  seen  it 
after  that  fashion  before. 

At  eight  o'clock  that  morning  there  was  to  be  a 
prayer-meeting  in  the  sheepfold.  I  was  looking  to 
that  as  a  rich  gospel  feast.  The  horn  soon  soimded, 
and  they  gathered  around  the  altar,  and  I  with 
them,  full  of  joy  and  peace. 

"  I  did  not  believe  that  I  ever  should  grieve, 
That  I  ever  should  suffer  again." 

O !  how  mistaken  are  yoimg  soldiers  when  they 
first  enlLst  under  Prince  Immanuel — when  they  have 
just  laid  oft'  their  rags  of  sin,  and  clothed  them- 
selves from  head  to  foot  with  the  armour  of  right- 
eousness— aye,  while  they  are  exulting  with  heav- 
enly courage,  the  war-bugle  may  summon  them  to 
the  battle  where  the  veteran's  nerve  will  be  required. 
So  it  was  with  me.  As  I  knelt  during  the  fii-st 
prayer,  the  archfiend  made  a  dreadful  assault — I 
trembled  like  the  aspen  leaf.  O  1  what  horror  and 
darkness  brooded  over  my  soid,  when  he  suggested 
to  me  that  I  had  no  rehgion — that  my  joys  and 
laughter  were  ridiculous  in  the  extreme — and  that  I 
had  not  only  been  gulled  myself,  but  had  deceived 
all  the  brethren.  Probably  I  had  never  done  any- 
thing in  my  life  that  made  me  feel  half  so  mean  or 
a.shamed  as  the  ridiculous  farce  he  made  me  believe 
I  had  been  acting.    My  awful  distress  of  mind  was 


l72  TRIAI-S  AKD  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

attended  with  spasms  of  body,  until  T  requested  to 
be  led  out  of  the  prayer-circle  into  the  tent.  Yes, 
gladly  would  I  have  been  led  into  a  deep  cavern  of 
the  earth,  where  no  human  eye  could  have  seen 
me.  O !  how  little  I  knew  of  his  devices !  Even 
in  this  state  of  the  case  I  remembered  my  covenant 
at  the  hotel  in  Virginia,  and  asked  God  to  renew  it 
again ;  and  if  I  had  not  got  religion,  I  was  bound 
to  have  it,  or  die  in  the  attempt.  I  then  went 
home,  a  distance  of  two  or  three  miles,  and  went 
into  my  closet,  and  when  I  had  shut  the  door  I 
wrestled  again  for  eternal  life,  and,  glory  be  to  God  ! 
I  found  relief — light  again  broke  into  my  soul,  and 
I  returned  to  the  camp  rejoicing.  Here  was  the 
firet  battle,  and  the  first  victory.  Thank  God,  the 
devil  could  not  get  me,  by  all  his  wiles,  basely 
to  desert  the  army  of  the  Lord.  This  was  the  last 
night  of  the  camp-meeting.  All  was  calm,  and 
sunshine,  and  joy  in  my  soul.  The  next  morning 
they  all  met  at  the  altar,  and  had  a  parting  address 
from  brother  Tarring,  a  preacher  and  a  disciple 
whom  Jesus  loved. 

I  then  joined  the  class  on  probation,  and  there 
was  not  a  doubt  then  in  my  mind,  nor  has  there 
been  since,  that  my  name  was  recorded  in  the 
Church  triumphant  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life. 
May  the  Lord  give  me  grace,  wisdom,  patience  and 
strength  to  triumph  over  every  temptation  and  every 
obstacle  in  this  life,  that  when  the  dead,  small  and 
oTeat,  shall  stand  before  God,  and  the  books  are 


LIFE  OF  t;.  W.  UENKY. 


173 


opened,  my  name  may  be  found  legibly  inscribed 
in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life.  AVhile  brother  Tarring 
was  addressing  the  convei-ts,  he  said :  "  You  think 
you  are  now  about  as  happy  as  you  can  be ;  but,  if 
you  are  faithful,  you  have  received  but  a  drop  of 
divine  grace  in  comparison  to  the  ocean  of  love  that 
awaits  you."  I  thought  that  brother  T.  must  cer- 
tainly be  mistaken,  for  I  felt  that  I  was  already  in 
the  ocean.  But  even  three  years  and  a  half  experi- 
ence has  proved  that  I  had  but  a  crumb  in  compari- 
son to  the  large  slice  of  the  bread  of  life  which  I 
have  since  had. 

I  now  returned  home  to  my  father-in-law's,  fully 
in  the  faitli  that  Avlien  I  should  tell  them  the  story 
of  what  Jesus  had  done  for  me,  and  how  happy  I 
felt  in  his  love,  they  must  certainly  one  and  all  re- 
joice with  me,  and  that  I  could  state  the  case  and 
plan  of  redemption  so  clearly  that  they  could  not 
refrain  from  embracing  the  Saviour  at  once — they 
that  had  not  already  found  him.  I  spoke  with  holy 
boldness  and  in  full  assurance  of  faith,  but  it  was 
as  an  idle  tale — which  caused  my  heart  to  bleed. 
The  very  first  thought  that  came  into  my  mind, 
after  I  had  received  the  pledge  of  love,  was  a  prayer 
that  my  wife  might  be  converted — and  my  second 
desire  was  to  fly  to  my  dear  mother,  to  tell  her  that 
her  oidy  child  had  found  Jesus — that  her  prayere 
and  tears  of  more  than  thirty  years  for  the  conver- 
sion of  my  poor  soul  had  at  length  been  answered ; 
and  from  that  time  onward  T  continued  to  hold  up 


174  TKIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

my  companion,  in  the  arms  of  faith,  to  the  throne 
of  mercy,  until  the  12th  of  November,  1843,  when 
she  was  brought  into  the  kingdom  and  shouted 
"  Glory !" — it  being  a  little  over  a  year  fi-om  the  time 
I  was  converted.  Immediately  after  I  returned  from 
the  camp-meeting,  I  wrote  to  my  mother  the  fol- 
lowing letter : — 

Greencastle,  ^ug.  I3th,  1842. 
My  Dear  Mother, — I  received  your  affectionate 
letter  of  the  3d  of  July,  which  brought  tears  of  joy 
fi-om  your  afflicted  children.  O I  mother,  I  am  un- 
grateful, when  I  say  I  am  afflicted,  for  it  seems  I  am 
now  the  happiest  man  living.  Last  Wednesday 
morning,  about  one  o'clock,  at  a  camp-meeting  near 
this  place,  after  I  had  retired  to  my  bed,  my  blessed 
.Tesus  pardoned  all  my  sins,  and  spoke  peace  to  my 
troubled  soul ;  and,  glory  be  to  God,  he  has  filled 
my  heart  witli  the  fulness  of  joy.  O,  mother! 
nothing  short  of  the  pen  of  an  angel  could  describe 
my  feelings.  O  that  I  could  be  with  you,  and 
shout  hallelujah  to  my  blessed  Jesus !  I  can  now 
see  his  divine  hand  and  his  wonder-workings  with 
me  for  one  year  past,  and  I  can  now  sweetly  kiss 
the  rod  of  my  affliction.  I  have  been  seeking  the 
Lord  for  about  four  months,  under  a  heavy  load  of 
sin,  and  have  been  borne  along  in  a  most  singular 
manner,  and  with  strange  dreams  and  visions  ;  how- 
ever, a  week  would  not  be  sufficient  to  write  what  T 
have  to  say  to  you,  and  I  must  hold  it  in  reserve 


LIVE  Oh  v.  W.  HENRY. 


1T5 


until  I  come  home,  which  I  hope  will  be  as  early  as 
October. 

Father  Brown  has  advertised  his  property  for  sale. 
I  will  send  you  a  bill  of  the  sale.  I  have  been  very 
actively  engaged  during  the  summer  in  trying  to 
close  up  my  business  with  the  various  corporations, 
and  I  expect  I  shall  be  obliged  to  have  a  lawsuit 
with  tlie  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Raili'oad  Company, 
wliich  will  bring  me  back  to  this  country  for  a 
season.    I  can  now  sing, 

"0  tell  me  no  moie  of  this  world's  vain  store." 

But  duty  and  circumstances  compel  me  to  deal 
with  an  unfriendly  world.  Thank  God,  this  is  not 
my  abiding  place ;  I  seek  a  city  out  of  sight.  Susan 
is  trying  to  seek  religion — her  health  is  not  very 
good  this  summer.  Her  little  babe  is  now  tolerably 
well.  We  are  both  anxious  to  come  home ;  Susan 
sends  her  best  love  to  you  and  father,  and  all  the 
rest  of  our  friends  in  that  country.  Many  of  your 
acquaintances  in  this  country  inquire  about  you,  and 
wish  to  be  remembered  in  my  letter  to  you. 

Dear  mother,  you  were  the  first  one  I  thought  of 
after  my  happy  emancipation,  and  I  wished  you  had 
been  with  me — we  would  have  shouted  together. 
I  have  a  small  boy  that  writes  for  me,  and  waits  on 
me.  We  are  living  at  home.  Father  Brown  and 
Mrs.  Work  send  their  love  to  you ;  the  old  man  is 
feeble.  Write  me,  mother,  soon.  Give  my  best 
love  to  father  and  all  the  rest  of  my  friends.    I  now 


176  TRIALS  AND  TRIDMl'HS  IN  THE 

close  these  glad-tidings,  dear  to  your  heart,  knowing 
that  you  will  still  pray  for  me  as  you  have  done — 
that  if  we  meet  no  more  in  this  world,  we  are  bound 
to  meet  on  Canaan's  happy  shore.  May  God  grant 
it.  Amen. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

G.  W.  Henry. 
P.  S.  I  have  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  I 
am  entirely  blind,  and  most  likely  always  shall  be. 
My  health  and  spirits  are  good. 

The  next  week  there  was  a  Methodist  camp- 
meeting  in  Maryland,  about  ten  miles  from  my 
liome.  I  went  at  the  beginning  of  the  feast;  there 
were  about  five  hundred  white  members,  and  nearly 
the  same  number  of  coloured,  and  I  think  about 
eighty  tents,  forming  an  entire  circle,  with  the 
preachers'  stand  in  the  middle ;  the  coloured  peo- 
ple's tents  forming  a  lialf-circle  by  themselves; 
there  was  a  sort  of  pole  fence  that  divided  the 
grounds  of  the  blacks  and  the  wliites  at  preaching 
hours.  Each  would  congregate  at  the  same  time  by 
themselves  in  fi-ont  of  the  stand — occasionally  a 
coloured  preacher  would  address  them  ;  the  whites 
would  sometimes  mingle  with  the  blacks  at  their 
prayer-meetings ;  the  blacks  were  the  life  of  the  camp- 
meeting.  Nine  out  of  ten  of  them  would  have  a 
melodious  voice  for  singing ;  and  it  seems  the  more 
they  sing,  the  better  they  get.  You  might  hear 
them  singing,  praying,  and  shouting,  at  a  great  dis- 


LIFK  OF  a.  \V.  HENRY. 


177 


tancc  from  the  camp-ground ;  and  I  think  tliey 
enjoy,  as  a  body  taken  together,  quite  as  mucli  reh'g- 
ion  as  the  whites  in  that  part  of  Maryland,  and  in 
the  northern  part  of  Virginia.  Probably  one-third 
of  them  are  free,  it  being  an  agiicultural  part  of  the 
country ;  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  a  stranger 
to  discover  whicli  were  free,  or  which  were  bond, 
cither  in  State  or  in  Church,  for  they  are  generally 
taught  to  know  their  place,  which  is  prescribed  to 
them  by  the  white  population,  whether  it  be  right 
or  wrong. 

])Ut  to  return  to  the  camp-meeting.  There  was 
a  good  feeling  generally  pervading  the  encampment ; 
as  for  me,  I  was  wading  in  that  stream  of  glory  that 
the  prophet  Ezekiel  waded  in  till  he  found  it  .so  deep 
that  he  swam.  The  meeting  grew  better  and  bet- 
ter, and  the  last  night  I  was  bathing  and  swimming 
in  tlie  ocean  of  love.  It  was  a  Pentecost  to  me  and 
many  others.  There  was  little  or  no  sleeping  in 
the  camp  that  night.  About  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  the  negroes  formed  a  procession  of  about 
five  hundred,  and  marched  around  within  the  circle, 
singing  a  forewell  liymn,  while  they  were  joined  in 
song  (not  in  procession)  by  the  whites,  wliich  made 
the  welkin  ring.  Then  they  formed  a  different  cir- 
cle, and  gave  each  a  parting  hand,  accompanied  by 
many  with  weeping  and  shouting ;  then  each  struck 
his  tent  at  break  of  day,  and  moved  homeward ;  and 
they  received  a  promise  from  their  masters  that  they 
should  have  another  jubilee  tlie  next  year  of  tjio 
12 


178  TiilALS  AND  TKll'MrilS  IK  THE 

same  kiml,  on  condition  of  good  behaviour ;  and  this, 
with  another  jubilee  during  the  hohdays  of  Christmas, 
serves  to  sweeten  their  bitter  cup  for  the  whole  year. 

And  to  me  was  that  night  fulfilled  that  promise  of 
the  Lord  spoken  by  Malachi  the  prophet,  third  chapter 
tenth  verse  :  "  Bring  ye  all  the  tithes  into  the  store- 
house, that  there  may  be  meat  in  my  house,  and 
prove  me  now  herewith,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  if 
I  will  not  open  the  windows  of  heaven,  and  pour 
you  out  a  blessing  that  there  shall  not  be  room 
(Miough  to  receive  it."  Brother  Young  preached  on 
the  subject  of  the  day  of  Pentecost.  At  the  close 
of  his  discourse,  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  a  mighty  rush- 
ing wind,  came  into  my  soul,  I  arose  from  my  seat 
and  gave  two  or  three  jumps,  and  then  my  strength 
failed  me,  and  I  was  literally  laid  upon  the  ground; 
and  felt  to  say,  like  the  immortal  Fletcher  on  such 
occasions,  "  Lord,  stay  thy  hand !"  for  it  seemed 
that  the  windows  of  heaven,  according  to  prophecy, 
were  opened  upon  my  soul,  so  that  there  was  not 
room  in  the  earthen  vessel  to  receive  it.  I  then 
learned  the  secret  of  the  language  of  the  apostle, 
"  When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong ;"  which  be- 
fore had  seemed  to  me  paradoxical.  And  I  was 
not  alone  at  this  gospel-feast ;  many  old  saints 
reeled  and  fell  under  the  power  of  God,  whilst  the 
cry  and  the  groan  were  heard  from  the  sinner, 
"  Lord,  have  mercy  on  my  soul !"  Brother  Young 
leaped  from  the  stand  as  a  giant  exhilarated  with 
wine,  and  went  through  the  congregation  slionting 


LIFE  OF  a.  W.  HENRV, 


179 


and  exliorting,  and  the  holy  fire  seemed  to  nm 
amongst  the  stubble  with  a  peifect  blaze. 

I  had  sometimes  been  tempted,  during  the  week, 
at  some  scenes  enacted  by  both  sexes  when  their 
cup  was  running  over  with  heavenly  rapture,  that 
seemed  to  me  rather  frantic,  although  I  did  not 
doubt  their  honesty  or  ecstasy  of  feeling,  but  thought 
that  their  outward  manifestations  seemed  to  be  ac- 
cording to  no  rules  of  etiquette,  yet  I  had  very 
charitably  passed  it  by  as  a  weakness ;  but  I  was 
eflectually  cured  of  my  gross  mistake,  as  to  the 
movings  of  the  Spirit  on  the  hearts  of  the  children 
of  the  kingdom.  Dear  reader,  whether  you  be  old 
or  young,  grave  or  jovial,  do  not  forget  that  it  is 
your  privilege  to  think  what  you  please,  or  to  make 
any  remarks  that  may  seem  to  you  proper,  about 
your  lumible  servant,  or  his  simple  narration  :  you 
have  a  right  to  believe  (if  it  so  seems  to  you)  that 
this  is  all  fanaticism,  and  a  perfect  humbug ;  but 
always  keep  this  one  thing  in  your  mind,  that  these 
outward  exhibitions,  such  as  shouting,  jumping, 
laughing,  and  falling,  proceed  either  from  the  throne 
of  God  and  the  Lamb,  or  from  the  prince  and 
power  of  darkness.  We  read  of  but  two  spirits  in 
the  world,  and  they  are  diametrically  opposite  to 
each  other ;  but  I  would  give  you  this  timely  warn- 
ing, that  if  it  shall  prove  in  eternity  that  they  pro- 
ceed from  the  Spirit  of  God,  it  will  be  with  confusion 
of  face  that  you  will  then  learn  that  you  have  been 
fighting  against  God,  and  perhaps  ridiculing  his 


180 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


cause  ;  and  that  the  King  shall  say  unto  you,  "  De- 
part, ye  cursed !  for  inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it 
unto  the  least  of  one  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  me."  I  have  more  than  once  been 
told  by  my  charitable  neighboui-s,  that  they  be- 
lieved that  professors  of  religion  often  worked  them- 
selves up  into  a  delusion.  Glory  to  God,  it  is  a 
happy  delusion — something  I  never  experienced  till 
the  10th  of  August,  1842,  about  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning — and  I  have  often  found  it  more  abundant 
since  that  time,  and  now,  while  dictating  these  pages, 
my  heart  is  all  in  a  flame  of  this  happy  feeling 
which  my  so  charitable  neighbours  call  a  delusion 
of  an  enthusiastic  brain — and,  thank  God,  I  know  it 
is  Christ  formed  within  me  the  hope  of  glory.  Sup- 
pose, kind  reader,  whoever  you  may  be  that  thinks 
this  a  delusion  of  the  imagination  produced  by  arti- 
ficial means,  that  you  go  into  some  secluded  spot, 
and  try  if  you  can  work  yourself  up  into  this  delu- 
sion— see  if  you  can  start  forth  a  flood  of  tears,  as 
rivers  of  delight — see  if  you  can  cause  all  your  phys- 
ical strength  to  depart,  while  all  the  faculties  of  your 
mind  remain  to  you  serene  and  unclouded — prove 
it  to  be  a  delusion  by  demonstration  like  this,  and 
then  may  you  well  be  satisfied  with  the  truth  of 
your  notions — but  not  till  then.  Perhaps  there  is 
not  one  of  my  readers  that  has  relished  the  pleasures 
of  this  world  more  than  I  have,  or  has  drunk  deeper 
of  them  ;  but  I  count  them  all  as  husks  and  chaff,  in 
comparison  to  what  I  call  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ. 


LIFE  OF  G.  \V.  HENKV. 


181 


"  I  sought  for  bliss  in  glittering  toys, 
I  ranged  the  luring  streams  of  vice, 

But  never  knew  substantial  joys 
UntU  I  heard  my  Saviour's  voice." 

I  agi-ee  with  the  apostle  that  rehgion  is  not  a 
cuiiuingly  devised  fable.  But  then,  as  you  know 
that  you  have  a  license  to  think  of  these  things  as 
you  like,  please  come  back  with  me  to  the  camp- 
meeting,  for  I  have  more  of  these  things  to  tell  you 
that  look  so  foolish  to  you,  before  I  get  through 
with  what  I  have  to  say,  although  but  a  few  will  be 
told  in  comparison  to  what  I  may  relate  to  you  if 
we  shall  be  permitted  to  shout  together  in  that 
eternal  world  of  joy  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  Him 
that  hath  loved  us — but  let  us  return  to  where  the 
author  was  left  lying  upon  the  ground.  After  I  had 
lain  there  a  few  minutes  physical  strength  returned 
to  me,  while  my  soul  was  full  of  glory  and  of  God. 
"  If  a  man  love  me  he  will  keep  my  words ;  and 
my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him 
and  make  our  abode  with  him."  John  xiv,  23. 
Yes,  reader,  on  that  very  condition  we  may  caiTy 
about  with  us  the  Father  and  Son,  and  every  sancti- 
fied believer  that  walks  in  the  Spirit  enjoys  that  sacred 
privilege ;  and  it  is  just  as  much  my  privilege  and 
yours  to  walk  with  God,  and  have  the  daily  testi- 
mony that  we  please  him,  as  it  was  the  privilege  of 
Enoch.  Your  unbelieving  heart  will  deny  this, 
whilst  at  the  very  next  breath  you  will  very  cor- 
rectly, perhaps,  charge  some  of  your  neighboui« 


182  TRIALS  AND  TKIUMPUS  IN  THK 

with  being  full  of  tlie  devil.  Christ  has  no  com- 
munion with  Belial,  neither  has  the  temple  of  God 
any  agreement  with  idols. 

"  The  dearest  idol  I  have  known, 

Whate'er  that  idol  be, 
Help  me  to  tear  it  from  thy  throne, 

And  worship  only  thee." 

I  do  not  think,  after  I  felt  the  slaying  power  that 
night,  that  I  uttered  a  prayer  to  God  for  more  of 
the  Spirit,  for  I  was  already  filled  to  overflowing. 
But  even  at  this  joyful  period  Satan  was  busy  with 
his  suggestions.  His  great  fear  was  that  I  shoidd 
wound  the  cause  of  religion  by  such  outward  de- 
monstrations, and  such  loud  sliouting.  I  rather  fell 
in  with  his  notion,  thinking  I  was  acting  too  much 
the  negro  for  a  white  man.  But  my  case  was  like 
that  of  one  whom  Bunyan  describes  in  his  Pilgrim's 
Progress — where  the  interpreter  took  one  of  the 
pilgrims  into  a  room  and  showed  him  a  fire  burn- 
ing against  a  wall,  with  the  devil  casting  on  water, 
but  the  more  water  he  threw  on  the  higher  and 
hotter  grew  tlie  flame.  The  pilgrim  inquired  of  the 
interpreter  the  meaning  of  that  figure.  He  then 
took  him  around  behind  the  waH,  and  showed  him 
a  man  with  a  vessel  of  oil  in  his  hand — and  as  the 
devil  threw  water  on  the  fire  this  person  poured  on 
the  oil,  which  served  to  increase  the  flame.  Then 
said  Christian  to  the  interpreter,  "What  means 
this  ?"  "  This,"  answered  the  interpreter,  "  is  Christ, 
who  continually  with  the  oil  of  his  grace  maintains 


UFE  Ub  (.i.  W.  llJiXKV. 


183 


the  flame  of  love  in  the  heart,  by  means  of  which, 
notwithstanding  wliat  the  devil  can  do,  the  souls  of 
his  people  are  gracious  still."  This  was  the  promise 
made  to  Paul,  when  he  thrice  prayed  for  the  thorn 
to  be  removed  fi-om  his  flesh,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  you" — and  this  gi-ace  was  not  given  to  Paul 
only,  but  it  is  given  to  every  humble  cross-bearing 
follower  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

"  When  through  the  deep  waters  I  cause  thee  to  go, 
Th«  rivers  of  sorrow  shall  not  thee  o'erflow  ; 
For  I  will  stand  by  thee  thy  troubles  to  bless. 
And  sanctify  to  thee  thy  deepest  distress. 
"  When  through  fiery  trials  thy  pathway  shall  lie, 
My  grace  all-suflicient  shall  be  thy  supply, 
The  flames  shall  not  hurt  thee — I  only  design 
Thy  dross  to  consume,  and  thy  gold  to  refine." 

So,  as  the  devil  undertook  to  quencli  that  flame 
of  angelic  fire  that  was  burning  on  the  altar  of  my 
heart,  Christ  poured  in  the  oil  of  his  grace : 

"  Then  my  soul  mounted  higher 
In  a  chariot  of  fire, 
Xor  did  envy  Elij.ih  his  seat." 

Nevertheless,  fearing  that  I  might  not  walk,  or 
talk,  or  shout  according  to  the  prescribed  notions  of 
some  of  the  Pharisees  or  lukewarm  brethren,  I  re- 
quested to  be  led  into  the  preachers'  tent  about  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  I  thought  I  might 
settle  down  into  a  clear  sun.shine  of  joy  and  peace. 
Ail  tlie  preachei-s  had  left  the  tent  but  old  father 
Monroe,  a  superaimuated  jireacher.  who  liad  also  re- 


184  rUlALS  AND  TIULMI'IIS  IN  THE 


tired  from  that  tlirong  that  were  too  full  of  heavenly 
rapture  to  sleep.  Here  I  lay  down,  but  not  to 
sleep.  I  was  like  tlie  inflated  balloon,  ■which,  tied 
to  the  earth  by  a  single  cord  till  the  aeronaut  mounts 
his  car  and  cuts  the  cord,  then  ascends  heavenward 
far  above  all  sublunary  things;  so  was  ray  soul 
filled  with  the  heavenly  atmosphere  of  God's  love, 
and  had  the  silken  thread  tlien  been  severed,  would 
have  soared  away  and  found  an  abundant  entrance 
into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  Soon  after  I  had  lain  down  brother  Young 
came,  filled  with  tlie  Spirit  to  overflowing,  and  lay 
down  with  me.  This  was  like  putting  two  lire- 
brands  together.  Brotlier  Young  was  a  sober, 
steady  and  sedate  preacher.  We  had  both  retired 
for  the  same  object — to  keep  from  sliouting  aloud 
to  the  praise  of  God — but  in  this  we  were  overruled, 
and  I  do  not  know  that  I  was  ever  so  mechanically 
shaken  at  any  other  time,  although  by  unseen 
hands,  as  I  was  then  for  about  three  minutes,  so 
that  the  row  of  bunks  fell  down.  The  shaking,  I 
think,  I  could  not  have  helped  had  it  been  to  save 
my  life.  In  this  state  of  the  case,  as  we  leaped  from 
the  bunk,  old  father  Monroe  being  disconcerted  by 
his  fall,  cried  out,  "Turn  them  out!"  which  was, 
however,  pronounced  in  love,  his  only  desire  being 
that  we  might  have  more  room  to  give  vent  to  tlie 
overflowings  of  the  Spirit;  yet  the  devil  took  advan- 
tage of  it,  and  began  to  throw  cold  water,  suggest- 
ing to  me  that  in  all  the  l  evellings  of  my  frolicksorae 


LIFK  OK  G.  W.  HKNKV. 


185 


life  I  was  never  ordere<.l  out  of  clooi-s  before,  and 
"  Turn  him  out !"  was  continually  sounding  in  ray 
ears  as  gratingly  as  possible,  till  I  left  the  camp- 
ground, which  I  did  the  next  morning  at  nine 
o'clock. 

But,  thank  God,  the  oil  of  his  grace  was  suffi- 
cient to  keep  the  fire  burning ;  and,  blessed  be  his 
name,  the  devil  has  never  been  able  to  quench 
that  hallowed  flame  which  glows  in  my  heart,  even 
now,  while  I  dictate  to  the  writer  the  scenes  of  that 
happy  night. 

I  beg  pardon  of  the  reader  (if  pardon  be  needed) 
for  keeping  him  so  long  at  this  camp-meeting. 
Perhaps  my  teeliug-s  are  something  like  Peter's 
when  on  the  mount  of  transfiguration,  when  our 
Saviour  removed  the  veil  of  his  human  nature  for  a 
moment  and  showed  his  disciples  that  glory  that 
shall  hereafter  be  revealed  to  those  that  die  in  the 
Lord :  Peter  wanted  to  build  there  three  tabernacles, 
for  he  said  it  was  good  for  him  to  be  there.  But 
it  was  not  for  Peter  to  remain  always  on  the  mount, 
nor  was  it  for  your  author  always  to  remain  at  the 
camp-meeting.  So  we  will  bid  our  brethren  and 
sisters  farewell — night  finds  us  at  home  again. 


18G  TRIALS  ANU  XIULMl'HS  IX  THE 


CHAPTER  XI. 

At  this  time  there  was  another  camp-meeting  held 
within  about  two  miles  and  a  half  of  home,  by  a  sect 
called  the  "United  Brethren  in  Christ."  They  are 
quite  numerous  in  Pennsylvania  and  Ohio :  they  are 
called  by  some  the  "  Dutch  ^Methodists  " — they  are 
generally  an  humble,  devoted,  and  \noi\s  people. 
The  next  morning  after  breakfast  I  moved  towards 
that  encampment,  and,  like  the  prophet,  I  felt  "  the 
fire  shut  up  in  my  bones,"  and  it  took  but  a  gentle 
breeze  from  Canaan  to  fan  it  into  a  flame.  This 
was  a  morning  of  the  love-feast ;  and  long  before  I 
reached  the  camp-ground  the  heavenly  music  fell 
upon  my  ear,  and  I  longed  to  be  there.  I  hastened 
my  horse  and  was  soon  on  the  outside  of  the  camj). 
It  seemed  to  me  my  boy  was  an  unusual  length  of 
time  in  ftistening  the  horse,  while  I  could,  seemingly, 
like  blind  Bartimeus,  or  the  lame  man  that  was 
healed,  have  leaped  and  praised  the  Lord.  But  I 
soon  found  an  entrance  into  the  sheepfold,  and  be- 
gan to 

 "  tell  to  sinners  round 

What  a  dear  Saviour  I  liad  found." 

I  was  so  filled  with  holy  rapture,  and  had  so  much 
to  tell  of  the  goodness  of  God,  that  I  should  proba- 
bly have  taken  up  nearly  all  the  time  that  was  al- 
lotted for  the  love-feast,  had  not  one  of  the  preach- 
ers, in  the  kindest  manner,  rccpiested  me  to  give 


LIFK  OF  c;.  W.  IIENKV. 


187 


way  for  other  witnesses.  The  devil  again  began  to 
throw  cold  water,  by  telHng  me  I  had  degraded  ray- 
self  and  my  connexions — that  I  talked  very  simple 
for  a  man  of  my  age  and  pretensions.  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that  what  I  said  sounded  foolish  to  the 
wise  of  this  world,  for  I  was  a  mere  babe  in  Christ. 
Before  going  to  the  meeting  I  had  resolved  in  my 
own  mind  to  be  rather  reserved,  it  not  being  ray 
own  Church  ;  but  that  was  all  forgotten  at  the  fii-st 
joyful  sound  borne  on  the  wings  of  the  morning  to 
my  ears  fi-om  the  camp.  Falling  in  again  with  the 
suggestions  of  his  Satanic  majesty,  who  professed 
such  a  guardian  care  for  the  Church,  and  especially 
for  one  of  the  lambs  of  the  flock  that  had  so  lately 
deserted  from  his  dark  dominions,  I  was  determined 
to  take  my  seat  during  the  rest  of  the  exercises  out 
in  the  congregation,  and  be  decent,  trusting  to  the 
charity  of  my  brethren  and  friends  to  overlook  what 
had  passed.  In  the  afternoon  the  horn  sounded  for 
preaching,  and  I  seated  myself  back  in  the  congre- 
gation ;  but,  as  the  preacher  began  to  hold  up  the 
blessed  Jesus  to  my  view,  salvation's  well  began  to 
spring  up  in  my  soul.  I  began  to  feel  like  shouting 
glory,  and  more  like  leaping  for  joy,  than  sitting 
orderly  on  my  bench.  "  It  came  in  floods,  I  could 
not  contain ;"  I  therefore  got  down  on  my  knees 
and  stopped  my  mouth  as  much  as  possible  with 
my  handkerchief  till  I  began  to  feel  distressed  in 
body  and  in  mind,  so  that  I  was  quite  exhausted. 
When  the  meeting  broke  up  [  was  laid  on  tlie  bench 


188 


TRIALS  AND  TKIUMPHS  IN  THE 


with  the  same  convulsions  and  cramps  that  I  had 
the  night  before  I  Avas  converted,  and  was  taken 
home  in  a  very  different  state  of  feeling  from  what 
I  entered  upon  the  camp-ground  on  that  morning. 
I  was  sensible  I  liad  grieved  the  Spirit,  and  had 
yielded  to  the  temptations  of  the  devil.  But  I  found 
relief  that  night  at  the  throne  of  gi-ace,  where  I 
promised  God  I  would  ever  praise  him  according  to 
the  dictation  of  his  Holy  Spirit. 

I  now  had  to  leave  the  camp  of  Israel  to  deal 
with  a  cold-hearted  world,  where  God  is  not  known, 
and  where  money  is  prized  higher  than  heaven.  I 
have  already  informed  the  reader  of  the  immense 
amount  of  unsettled  business  I  had  with  various 
corporations  in  different  States.  Here  I  learned  a 
lesson  that  convinced  me  of  the  total  depravity  of 
the  human  heart ;  for  in  all  my  life  I  never  had 
more  black-hearted  villany  practised  on  me  than 
here,  in  my  poverty  and  infirmities,  while  trying  to 
settle  up  my  business  ;  the  most  unmanly  advan- 
tages were  taken  of  me,  as  well  by  individuals  as  by 
corporations,  which,  most  emphatically,  "  have  no 
souls." 

"  Man's  inhumanity  to  man 
Makes  countless  millions  mourn." 

Still,  amidst  all  these  trials  I  found  many  green 
spots  in  the  desert.  O,  what  a  blessed  gospel,  that 
sheds  its  heavenly  dew  on  every  branch  that  abideth 
in  the  true  vine ! 


l.IFK  OF  (i.  \V.  IIF.XRV. 


189 


Though  troubles  assail  us, 

AdA  dangers  affright, 
Though  friends  should  all  fail  us, 

And  foes  all  unite, 
Yet  one  thing  secures  us,  whatever  betide. 
The  promise  assures  us.  The  Lord  will  provide." 

In  all  the  changeful  and  trying  affairs  of  life,  (and 
it  is  said  that  these  afflictions  shall  work  out  for  us 
a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory,) 
we  have  the  full  assurances  of  his  promise  to  comfort 
us ;  and  what  is  better,  we  may  have  his  Spirit  to 
cheer  us  and  make  us  rejoice  in  enduring  our  trials ; 
and  when  God's  children  are  filled  with  his  love, 
they  will  soon  find  each  other  out  without  much 
formality  of  introduction.  They  all  drink  from  the 
same  fountain — they  should  always  carry  with  them 
the  visible  marks  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  I  once  heard 
a  story  of  two  converted  heathen,  of  different  nations, 
who  had  been  taught  the  way  of  salvation  in  differ- 
ent languages.  They  happened  to  meet  while 
traveUing  with  caravans  over  a  desert,  and,  while 
watering  their  camels,  they  discovered  in  each  other 
some  of  these  visible  marks  of  Christian  bi'other- 
hood ;  but  the  gieat  difficulty  was  to  communicate 
each  other's  ideas,  as  they  did  not  understand  each 
other's  language.  They  both  knelt  on  the  sand,  in 
the  attitude  of  imploring  the  throne  of  grace,  when, 
it  recurring  to  one  of  them  that  his  missionary  had 
told  him  that  the  word  liallelujah  was  transmitted 
in  every  language  alike,  he  shouted  "  liallelujah  I" 
which  was  responded  }>v  his  converted  l>rother,  like 


190  TRIALI.  AND  THIIMI'IIS  IN  THE 

an  echo ;  and  the  other,  remembering  tliat  his  mis- 
sionary had  told  him  tliat  the  word  amen  was  trans- 
mitted alike  in  all  languages,  exclaimed,  "  Amen !" 
"  Amen  !"  rejoined  the  other — and  thus  they  shouted 
"  Hallelujah  "  and  "  Amen,"  to  the  praise  of  Him  who 
shall  have  "  the  heathen  for  his  inheritance,  and  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  a  possession." 

O,  my  brethren,  open  your  eyes,  and  look  forward 
to  that  day  to  which  Enoch,  the  first  of  all  the 
prophets,  and  John,  the  last  of  all  the  apostles, 
direct  our  faith ;  when  the  great  Shepherd  shall 
gather  together,  in  one  fold,  some  of  all  nations  and 
of  all  ages :  and  then  shall  all  speak  one  language, 
and  sing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 

"  Sweet  glories  rush  upon  my  sight, 

And  charm  my  wondering  eyes ; 
The  regions  of  immortal  light, 

The  beauties  of  the  skies  ! 

"  All  hail !  ye  fair  celestial  shores, 

Ye  lands  of  endless  day ; 
Swift  on  my  view  your  prospect  pours, 

And  drives  my  griefs  away. 

"  Short  is  the  passage — short  the  space 
Between  my  home  and  me  ; 

There !  there  behold  the  radiant  place- 
How  near  the  mansions  be  ! 

"Immortal  wonders!  boundless  things 

In  those  dear  worlds  appear ! 
Prepare  me,  Lord,  to  stretch  my  wings, 

And  in  those  glories  share." 


I.IKE  OF  (;.  W,  HEXRV. 


101 


CHAPTER  XII. 

My  father-in-law  being  at  tliis  time  brought  upon 
his  beil  of  death,  prevented  our  contemplated  visit 
to  the  north;  and  my  wife  and  I  remained  with 
him  during  a  painful  sickness,  until  the  26th  of 
December,  which  day  closed  his  earthly  career,  he 
being  about  seventy  years  of  age.  Long  shall  I  re- 
member that  solemn  and  impressive  scene  when  the 
family  were  weeping  around  his  death-couch,  al- 
though I  could  not  see.  The  death-rattle — the  faint 
flickering  of  the  expiring  breath — the  fluttering  of 
the  spirit  to  free  itself  from  its  earthly  entangle- 
ments, half  desirous,  half  reluctant  to  leave  its  dilap- 
idated tenement  of  clay  and  soar  away  to  its  native 
skies — the  impressions  which  tliese  made  can  never 
be  eflfaced  fiom  my  memory.  ]3ut 

"  Why  start  at  Death  ?  where  is  he  ?   Death  arrived 

Is  past ;  not  come,  or  gone,  he's  never  here, 

Kre  hope,  sensation  fails ;  black-boding  man 

Receives,  not  suffers,  Death's  tremendous  blow. 

The  knell,  the  shroud,  the  mattock,  and  the  grave; 

The  deep  damp  vault,  the  darkness  and  the  worm ; 

These  are  the  bugbears  of  a  winter's  eve. 

The  terrors  of  the  living,  not  the  dead. 

Imagination's  fool,  and  error's  wretch, 

Man  makes  a  death  which  nature  never  made  ; 

Then  on  the  point  of  his  own  fancy  falls, 

Xnil  feels  a  thousand  deaths  in  fearing  one.'' 
And  to  continue  Dr.  Young's  heaven-inspired  re- 
flections on  this  subject,  I  beg  leave  to  add,  and 
wouKl  im])re.«s  it  on  my  reader's  miml.  that — 


192  TRIALS  AX»  THU  MIMIS  IN  TIIK 


"  Life  makes  tlie  soul  depeiiUeiit  on  the  iliist ; 
Death  gives  her  wings  to  mount  above  the  spheres. 
Thro*  chinks,  styled  organs,  dim  life  peeps  at  light ; 
Death  bursts  th'  involving  cloud,  and  all  is  day  ; 
All  eye,  all  ear,  the  disembodied  power. 
Death  has  feign'd  evils  nature  shall  not  feel  ; 
Life,  ills  substantial,  wisdom  cannot  shun. 
Is  not  the  mighty  mind,  that  son  of  heaven, 
By  tyrant  Life  dethroned,  imprison'd,  pain'd  ? 
By  Death  enlarged,  ennobled,  deified? 
Death  but  entombs  the  body.  Life  the  soul. 

" '  Is  Death  then  guiltless  '?  how  he  marks  his  way 
With  dreadful  waste  of  what  deserves  to  shine  ! 
Art,  genius,  fortune,  elevated  power ; 
With  various  lustres  these  light  up  the  world, 
Which  Death  puts  out  and  darkens  human  race.' 

"  I  grant,  Lorenzo,  this  indictment  just ; 
The  sage,  peer,  potentate,  king,  conqueror ! 
Death  humbles  these ;  more  barbarous  Life  the  man. 
Life  is  the  triumph  of  our  mould'ring  clay ; 
Death,  of  the  spirit  infinite,  divine! 
Death  has  no  dread  but  what  frail  Life  imparts  : 
Nor  Life  true  joy  but  what  kind  Death  impro^•l's. 
No  bliss  to  boast,  till  Death  can  give 
Far  greater,  Life's  a  debtor  to  the  grave ; 
Dark  lattice  !  letting  in  eternal  day ! 

"  Lorenzo,  blush  at  fondness  for  a  life 
Which  sends  celestial  souls  on  errands  vile. 
To  cater  for  the  sense,  and  serve  at  boards 
AVhere  every  ranger  of  the  wilds,  perhaps 
Each  reptile,  justly  claims  our  upper-hand. 
Luxurious  feasts!  a  soul,  a  soul  immortal, 
In  all  the  dainties  of  a  brute  bemired  ! 
Lorenzo,  blush  at  terror  for  a  death 
Which  gives  thee  to  repose  in  festive  bowers, 
Where  nectar  sparkle,  angels  minister. 
And  more  than  angels  share,  and  raise,  and  crown 
And  eternize  the  birth,  bloom,  bursts  of  bliss. 
What  need  I  more ?   0  Death  !  the  palm  is  thino. 


LIFE  OF  ti.  W.  llliNKV. 


193 


"  Then  welcome,  Death  !  thy  dreaded  harbingers, 
Age  and  disease  :  Disease,  though  long  my  guest, 
That  plucks  my  nerves,  those  tender  strings  of  life  ; 
Which,  pluck'd  a  little  more,  will  toll  the  bell 
That  calls  my  few  friends  to  my  funeral ; 
Where  feeble  Nature  drops,  perhaps,  a  tear, 
While  Reason  and  Religion,  better  taught. 
Congratulate  the  dead,  and  crown  his  tomb 
With  wreath  triumphant.    Death  is  victory ; 
It  binds  in  chains  the  raging  ills  of  life : 
Lust  and  Ambition,  Wrath  and  Avarice, 
Dragged  at  his  chariot-wheel,  applaud  his  power. 
That  ills  corrosive,  cares  importunate. 
Are  not  immortal  too,  O  Death,  is  thine. 
Our  day  of  dissolution  I — name  it  right, 
'T  is  our  great  pay-day !  't  is  our  harvest,  rich 
And  ripe.    What  though  the  sickle,  sometimes  keen, 
Just  sears  us  as  we  reap  the  golden  grain "? 
More  than  thy  balm,  0  Gilead  !  heals  the  wound. 
Birth's  feeble  cry,  and  Death's  deep  dismal  groan, 
Are  slender  tributes  low-tax'd  Nature  pays 
For  mighty  gain ;  the  gain  of  each  a  life ! 
But  0 !  the  last  the  former  so  transcends. 
Life  dies  compared  ;  Life  lives  beyond  the  graie. 

"  And  feel  I,  Death,  no  joy  from  thought  of  thee  ? 
Death,  the  great  counsellor,  w  ho  man  inspires 
With  every  noble  thought  and  fairer  deed ! 
Death,  the  deliverer,  who  rescues  man ! 
Death,  the  rewarder,  who  the  rescued  crowns  ! 
Death,  that  absolves  my  birth,  a  curse  without  it ! 
Rich  Death,  that  realizes  all  my  cares, 
Toils,  virtues,  hopes ;  without  a  chimera ! 
Death,  of  all  pain  the  period,  not  of  joy  ; 
Joy's  source  and  subject  still  subsist  unhurt ; 
One  in  my  soul,  and  one  in  her  great  sire. 
Though  the  four  winds  were  warring  for  my  dust. 
Ves,  and  from  winds  and  waves,  and  central  night, 
Though  prison'd  there,  my  dust  too  I  reclaim, 
(To  dust  when  drop  proud  nature's  proudest  spheres,) 
1.! 


194 


TRIALS  ANU  TKIL'MPHS  IN  THE 


And  live  entire,  Death  is  the  crown  of  life ; 
Were  death  denied,  poor  man  would  live  in  vain  : 
Were  death  denied,  to  live  would  not  be  life : 
Were  death  denied,  e'en  fools  would  wish  to  die. 
Death  wounds  to  cure  ;  we  fall,  we  rise,  we  reign ! 
Spring  from  our  fetters,  fasten  in  the  skies. 
Where  hlooming  Eden  withers  in  our  sight ; 
Death  gives  us  more  than  was  in  Eden  lost. 
This  king  of  terrors  is  the  prince  of  peace. 
When  shall  I  die  to  vanity,  pain,  death? 
When  shall  I  die  ? — when  shall  I  live  forever  ?" 

The  night  of  my  father-in-law's  death  T  bowed  for 
the  first  time  at  the  family-altar,  which,  by  the  help 
of  the  Lord,  has  ever  since  been  kept  up  within  my 
household,  when  at  all  practicable.  Here  followed 
some  trials  and  temptations  of  a  worldly  nature, 
which  I  now  see  I  was  not  able  to  bear  with  that 
Christian  fortitude  and  meekness  that  became  a 
child  of  grace.  When  I  was  a  child,  says  the 
apostle,  I  acted  as  a  child.  I  had  not  grace  "  tliat 
beareth  all  things,  and  endureth  all  things;"  but, 
thanks  be  to  God,  he  never  has  laid  upon  me  any 
temptation  but  what  he  gave  grace  to  deliver  me, 
and  has  thus  far  delivered  me  out  of  them  all. 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  I  said  the  first 
prayer  I  offered  up  after  my  conversion  was  that 
my  wife  might  speedily  be  brought  into  the  ark  of 
safety.  I  believe  she  soon  (as  she  says  hei-self)  re- 
solved to  get  religion,  but  intended  to  obtain  it  in 
the  most  genteel  manner,  and  make  no  noise  about 
it.  Soon  after  the  death  of  her  father,  she  con- 
descended (she  thought  it  a  condescension)  to  go 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


195 


to  class-meeting  with  me.  The  next  Sabbatli  slio 
was  still  more  willing  to  go,  and  began  to  think,  by 
this  time,  that  it  was  not  tlie  worst  place  in  the 
world.  Soon  after,  there  was  a  protracted  meeting 
in  Greencastle,  and  she  was  persuaded  to  kneel  at 
the  mourners'  bench ;  but  it  Avas  done  with  a  world 
of  precision,  her  face  concealed  by  her  handkerchieti 
as  if  very  much  ashamed  of  what  she  was  dofhg, 
while  not  so  much  as  a  whisper  of  prayer  could  be 
heard  to  escape  her  lips.  This  ceremony  she  per- 
formed several  times,  claiming  pardon  for  her  sins 
(if  she  had  any,)  and  religion  because  she  had  con- 
descended to  perform  those  so  very  humiliating  cer- 
emonies. The  protracted  meeting  being  brought  to 
a  close,  she  joined  the  Methodist  Church  on  proba- 
tion, went  to  class-meeting  regularly,  had  a  well-set 
speech  made  up,  which  was  delivered  in  as  genteel  a 
manner  as  need  be.  I  was  now  more  troubled 
about  her  soul  than  ever.  There  was  a  good  old 
preacher  tliat  used  to  say  that  the  devil  had  two 
cradles  which  he  rocked  his  children  to  sleep  in — 
the  big  cradle  was  the  world,  and  his  little  one  the 
Churcli,  while  he  sung  the  lullaby  of  "  Peace,  peace," 
when  (jrod  has  not  spoken  peace.  I  feared  this  was 
her  condition,  and  frequently  told  her  she  had  not 
one  spark  of  religion,  which  was  rather  offensive  to 
lier,  for  I  doubt  not  she  honestly  thought  she  had 
religion  ;  and  she  would  reply  that  she  thought  she 
had  as  much  as  I ;  and  truly,  if  religion  consisted 
of  outward  forms  and  ceremonies,  she  had.    I  pray- 


196 


XKULS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


ed  and  wrestled  with  God  to  convict  her  of  her 
sins,  and  bring  her  out  of  that  horrid  pit  of  cold 
formality.  I  seemed  to  have  almost  if  not  quite  as 
much  anxiety  for  the  salvation  of  her  soul  as  my 
own.  In  this  dangerous  position  she  remained 
about  six  months. 

I  knew  the  veiy  same  Saviour  yet  lived  Mho 
lie'ai'd  the  prayer  of  the  importunate  Canaanitish 
\\oman,  who  plead  in  behalf  of  her  unregenerated 
daughter,  and  that  he  lived  to  answer  prayer.  I 
discovered  that  she  began  to  feel  the  sting  of  an 
awakened  conscience ;  the  strong  man  that  had  kept 
his  place  in  peace  was  now  being  bound  by  the 
hand  of  Omnipotence.  She  was  now  willing  to 
bow  the  knee  and  cry  aloud  for  mercy;  she  felt  that 
she  was  a  great  sinner,  and  needed  a  Saviour ;  she 
then  sought  him  with  her  whole  heart,  and,  glory  be 
to  God,  she  found  him  to  the  joy  and  comfort  of 
her  soul,  when  shouts  of  glory,  that  filled  the  old 
church,  told  to  all  around  that  she  had  learned  the 
new  song;  there  was  joy  on  earth,  and  joy  jn 
heaven,  for  a  sinner  was  converted.  We  cannot  say 
that  we  have  walked  like  Zachariah  and  Elizabeth, 
blameless  in  all  the  ordinances  of  the  Lord,  but  we 
have  been  happy  in  the  love,  and  have  been  trying 
continually  to  grow  in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge 
of  God.  Previous  to  her  conversion,  she  would 
return  home  from  class-meeting  much  amused  at 
having  heard  the  brethren  talk  of  their  many  trials 
and  sore  temptations,  to  which  she  was  a  stranger. 


LIFK  OF        W.  IIENRY. 


197 


Tliis  was  to  my  mind  one  strong  e\'i<lence  tliat  slie 
was  unconverted;  for,  "They  that  Hve  godly  in 
Christ  Jesus  shall  suffer  persecution." 

I  have  been  thus  particular  in  writing  this  por- 
tion of  the  experience  of  uiy  wife,  which  I  learned 
not  only  from  observation  but  also  from  her  own 
mouth,  that  the  reader  may  profit  by  it.  Perhaps 
ho  may  already  be  rocked  to  sleep  in  one  or  the 
other  of  these  cradles  of  carnal  security ;  if  so,  I  pray 
GckI  to  awaken  him  from  this  dangerous  lethargy. 
O,  iiow  disappointed  will  that  soul  be  that  shall  be 
thrust  down  to  hell,  whose  hopes  were  as  high  as 
heaven !  It  is  not  all  that  say.  Lord,  Lord,  that 
shall  enter  into  the  kingdom,  but  they  only  that  do 
the  will  of  ray  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  "  Many 
will  say  unto  me  in  that  day.  Lord,  Lord,  have  we 
not  professed  in  thy  name,  and  in  thy  name  cast 
out  devils,  and  in  thy  name  done  many  wonderful 
works ;  tlien  will  I  profess  unto  them,  I  never  knew 
you ;  depart  from  me,  ye  that  work  iniquity."  Dear 
reader,  remember  that  these  are  the  words  of  the 
blessed  Saviour,  and  they  shall  stand  when  this 
world  is  no  more.  He  refers  to  that  great  day 
when  the  righteous  shall  be  separated  from  the 
wicked,  as  a  shepherd  divideth  the  sheep  from  the 
goats.  Shall  you  or  I  hear  that  terrible  sentence 
from  the  Judge,  "  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into 
everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  de\nl  and  his 
angels  ?"  Dear  reader,  permit  me  to  exhort  you  to 
pause — reflect — tliink  on  these  words — remember 


198  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

they  are  from  the  mouth  of  God ;  let  me  also  warn 
you  ."^gainst  presuming  ever  to  hear  "  Come,  thou 
Llessed  of  my  Father,"  spoken  to  you  in  that  great 
day,  without  solemn  repentance  before  God  for  your 
sins,  and  an  entire  change  of  heart  unto  holiness 
before  you  go  down  to  your  grave.  An  unholy 
soul  would  be  a  fearful  intruder  among  the  blood- 
washed  assembly.  I  care  not  how  orthodox  your 
opinions,  or  what  the  name  of  your  Church ;  there 
shall  in  no  wise  enter  into  that  city  anything  that 
defileth,  or  worketh  abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie; 
but  they  that  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of 
life,  and  they  only  shall  be  there. 

My  wife  being  now  safely  in  the  kingdom  of 
grace,  I  held  up  in  the  arms  of  faith  a  young 
girl,  an  orphan,  whom  Providence  had  brought  into 
my  family,  illiterate  and  poor;  but,  thank  God,  if 
there  are  promises  more  specially  belonging  to  one 
class  of  mortals  than  another,  it  is  to  the  poor,  the 
maimed,  the  halt,  and  the  blind;  they  may  in 
Christ  a  hearty  welcome  find.  I  endeavoured  to 
point  out  to  her  the  waj'  of  salvation  as  plainly  as 
possible,  telling  her  that  Christ  was  an  especial 
guardian  to  the  orphan.  In  about  six  months  she 
was  converted,  after  a  severe  struggle  of  conviction. 
Soon  after,  as  her  mourning  was  turned  into  jo)', 
and  I  heard  her  shout  "  Glory  to  God !"  these  words 
of  Scripture,  which  heretofore  had  been  a  mystery 
to  me,  were  now  made  plain;  when  our  Saviour 
turned  his  eyes  towards  heaven,  he  said,  "Father, 


LIFE  OK  G.  W.  HENKV. 


199 


I  tliiwik  tlice  that  these  thiiiffs  arc  not  committed  to 
the  wise  and  prudent,  but  they  are  revealed  unto 
babes."  Yes,  if  the  gospel  had  been  confided  to 
a  few  of  the  literary  of  this  world,  the  poor  un- 
taught orphan  would  very  likely  never  know  the 
way  of  life ;  but,  thank  God,  the  sage,  the  philoso- 
pher, and  the  prince,  are  here  placed  on  a  level  with 
the  little  child ;  "  Except  ye  become  as  little  chil- 
dren ye  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
My  family  were  now  all  in  the  ark  of  safety — my 
little  Fanny  was  in  heaven — the  rest,  through  sov- 
ereign grace,  prepared  to  follow.  Thank  God  for 
his  mercy  and  his  truth  ! 

"  Religion !  thou  the  soul  of  h.ippiness. 
And  groaning  Calvary,  of  thee,  there  shine 
The  noblest  truths  ;  there  strongest  motives  sting ; 
There  sacred  violence  assaults  tlie  soul ; 
There  nothing  but  compulsion  is  forborne. 
Can  love  allure  us "?  or  can  terror  awe  ? 
He  weeps !— the  falling  drop  puts  out  the  sun. 
He  sighs! — the  sigh  earth's  deep  foundation  shakes. 
If  in  his  love  so  terrible,  what  then 
His  wrath  inflamed?  his  tenderness  on  fire? 
Like  soft,  smooth  oil,  out-blazing  other  fires? 
Can  jirayers,  can  praise  avert  it  ?   Thou,  my  all ! 
My  theme !  my  inspiration  !  and  my  crown  ! 
My  strength  in  age !  my  rise  in  low  estate ! 
My  soul's  ambition,  pleasure,  wealth !  my  world  ! 
My  light  in  darkness !  and  my  life  in  death ! 
My  boast  through  time!  bliss  through  eternity! 
Eternity,  too  short  to  speak  thy  praise, 
Or  fathom  tliy  profound  of  love  to  man ! 
To  man  of  men  the  meanest,  even  to  me  ; 
My  sacrifice  !  my  God !— what  things  are  these  !" 


•200 


iRTAi.s  ANi,'  riin'Mr'usi  ix  rriK 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

It  was  in  the  ftiU  of  1843  that  wc  made  our  con- 
templated trip  to  the  North.  Here  I  met  my  dear 
motlier  for  the  first  time  after  losing  my  temporal 
x'ision  and  receiving  spiritual  sight ;  and  a  happier 
embrace  had  never  a  mother  and  a  sou.  Like 
Simeon  of  old  she  might  have  said,  "  Now,  Lord,  let 
thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen 
thy  salvation,"  "  for  my  son  was  dead  and  is  alive 
again — was  lost  and  is  found."  Who  can  fathom 
a  mother's  love  for  her  child — a  love  spontaneous, 
1  loundless,  divine ! 

After  killing  the  fatted  calf  and  making  merry 
with  my  bretlu'en  and  sisters  of  this  country  for  a 
while,  we  prepared  to  return  to  the  South.  About 
this  time  I  had  a  very  agreeable  dream,  which  I  will 
venture  to  relate,  with  no  other  apology  to  the  un- 
believing reader  who  may  be  disposed  to  turn  up 
his  philosophic  nose  at  the  mention  of  a  dream, 
than,  that  it  is  simply  a  dream,  signifying  something 
or  nothing,  and  he  is  at  liberty  to  attach  as  much 
(and  no  more)  significance  to  it  as  he  may  feel  dis- 
posed ;  barely  reminding  him  at  the  same  time  of 
the  dreams  and  visions  so  frequently  spoken  of  in 
the  Bible.  God  often  visited  the  patriarchs  of  old 
in  dreams  and  visions  of  the  night;  and  man  is  the 
same  now  as  then,  and  God  is  unchangeable.  I 
dreamed  I  was  in  the  Masonic  Hall,  in  the  nliage 


LIFK  Ol''  ti.  W.  IIUVRV. 


201 


ol'  l-'rankfort,  whcro  tlio  Methodists  liolcl  llioir  moot 
ino-s.  I  thought  I  was  engaged  in  a  httle  pniycr- 
circle.  I  looked  out-doors  and  beheld  a  general 
wreck  of  matter ;  the  Hall,  with  other  things,  de- 
molished about  me.  I  thought  I  began  to  rise, 
being  clothed  in  a  long  white  robe ;  and  as  I  gradu- 
ally ascended  my  soul  became  full  of  glory,  and  I 
shouted  aloud,  which  awakened  my  wife.  I  was  at 
this  time,  as  it  appeared  to  me,  about  one  hundred 
feet  above  the  earth,  still  ascending,  when  she  broke 
the  gentle  spell  that  bound  me,  and  realized  to  me 
that  I  was  still  an  inhabitant  of  the  earth.  Although 
it  turned  out  to  be  a  dream,  I  do  not  know  that 
I  was  ever  much  liappier  in  my  life  than  when 
I  awoke.  You  will  recollect  the  dreams  I  had 
while  striving  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  grace, 
w  hich  I  have  related  to  you.  I  did  not  dream  my- 
self into  the  kingdom — I  was  wide  awake  and 
clothed  in  my  right  mind  when  I  entered ;  so  I  ex- 
pect to  be  in  the  morning  of  the  resurrection,  when 
the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a 
shout,  and  with  the  sound  of  the  trump  and  the 
voice  of  the  archangel,  when  he  shall  come  to  gather 
up  his  jewels,  when  he  shall  bring  up  his  saints 
from  the  be<.ls  of  dust  and  darkness,  then  shall  the 
ransomed  of  tlie  Lord  drop  their  death-shrouds,  and 
rise  in  the  image  of  their  Saviour,  shouting  glory ! 
as  they  are  caught  up  to  meet  hhn  in  the  air— a 
bright  army  that  will  not  be  a  dream,  but  a  sublime 
and  glorious  reality. 


202  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

This  dream  was  about  tlie  time  that  much  was 
.said  about  the  second  coming  of  Christ,  which,  no 
doubt,  was  the  occasion  of  my  dream.  Main-  virgins 
arose  that  year  and  trimmed  their  lamps,  and  were 
l)repared  at  midnight,  at  cock-crowing,  or  at  noon- 
day, to  go  forth  with  joy  to  meet  their  Lord.  But, 
:das  !  how  changed  are  the  times,  even  in  the  short 
space  of  three  years.  Where  thousands  were  then 
saying,  "  Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly,"  we  now 
hear,  by  word  or  action,  "The  Lord  delayetli  his 
coming."  At  the  time  when  Millerism,  as  it  was 
called,  was  all  the  rage,  I  neither  believed  nor  dis- 
believed Mr.  Miller's  theory,  nor  troubled  myself 
much  about  it;  but  I  will  say  it  was  a  means  of  my 
preparing  more  oil  for  my  journey,  and  of  trimming 
my  lamp.  I  love  to  dwell  on  the  doctrine  of  the 
resurrection.  Very  probably  the  first  thing  I  shall 
ever  see  will  be  my  Lord  coming  in  the  clouds  in 
great  glory,  and  all  his  holy  angels  with  him.  The 
promise  is,  that  every  eye  shall  see  him.  He  is  the 
very  same  Physician  that  opened  the  eyes  of  blind 
Bartimeus,  and  caused  him  to  shout  and  leap  for 
joy.  If  the  opening  of  the  eyes  of  the  blind  on  this 
vain  and  transitory  world  should  cause  so  much 
joy,  how  infinitely  more  rapturous  shall  be  that 
glorified  body  that  shall  be  permitted  to  gaze  on 
the  Redeemer  in  his  native  glory,  with  all  the 
honours  of  heaven  upon  him !  Then  to  turn  and 
gaze  upon  that  blood-washed  throng  of  unnumbered 
millions,  how  glorious  the  scene !    There  shall  be 


LIFE  OF  G.  W,  HENRY. 


203 


no  nijjht  there,  for  tlie  Lord  God  shall  give  them 
light,  and  they  shall  reign  forever  and  ever.  Dear 
reader,  by  the  grace  of  God,  even  at  this  moment, 
as  for  tlie  last  six  months  past,  I  can  in  my  heart 
respond  to  the  last  words  in  the  Bible,  "Amen, 
even  so,  come  Lord  Jesus blessed  is  that  servant 
that  is  found  watching  when  his  Lord  cometh.  O 
Lord,  arouse  to-day  the  sleeping,  foolish  virgins. 

"  Sinner,  art  thou  still  secure? 

Wilt  thou  still  refuse  to  pray? 
Can  thy  heart  or  hands  endure 

In  the  Lord's  avenging  day  ? 

"  See,  his  mighty  arm  is  hared ! 

Awful  terrors  clothe  his  brow  ! 
For  his  judgment  stand  prepared, 

Thou  must  either  break  or  bow. 

"  At  his  presence  Nature  shakes ; 

Earth,  affrighted,  hastes  to  flee  ; 
Solid  mountains  melt  like  wax ; 

What  will  then  become  of  thee? 

"  Who  his  advent  may  abide  ? 

You  that  glory  in  your  shame, 
Will  you  find  a  place  to  hide 

When  the  world  is  wrapp'd  in  flame  ? 

"  Lord,  prepare  us  by  thy  grace ! 

Soon  we  must  resign  our  breath. 
And  our  souls  be  called  to  pass 

Through  the  iron  gates  of  death. 

"  Let  us  now  our  day  improve. 

Listen  to  the  gospel  voice ; 
Seek  the  things  that  are  above  ; 

Scorn  the  world's  pretended  joys." 


204  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


We  were  now  ready  to  return  to  tlie  South,  by 
tlie  way  of  New-York  and  Pliiladelpliia.  The 
reader  has  ah-eady  been  informed  of  my  property,  as 
to  this  world's  goods.  I  could,  with  simple  honesty, 
have  said,  in  the  language  of  Shakspeare,  "  He  that 
steals  my  purse,  steals  trash  ;"  and,  as  it  is  a  part  of 
my  creed  that  faith  and  works  should  go  together 
in  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual  affairs,  I  could  not 
with  confidence  look  up  to  God  and  ask  him  to  feed 
and  clothe  my  little  family  without  an  effort  on  my 
part  to  obtain  a  livelihood  for  them.  I  had  resolved 
in  my  own  mind  to  learn  to  make  brushes,  in  spite 
of  the  opposition  of  many  of  my  friends,  who  did 
not  believe  I  could  ever  learn  the  art;  but  my 
courage,  which  hitherto  had  been  most  valiant 
when  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  was  not  in  the  least 
abated  by  temporal  blindness.  The  thoughts  of 
being  dependent  on  the  cold  charities  of  a  selfisli 
world  I  was  unable  to  endure.  Consequently  I  re- 
mained one  day  with  iny  family,  in  Philadelphia, 
and  went  to  the  Blind  Institute  of  that  city,  and  re- 
quested some  instruction  in  the  art  of  brush-making, 
telling  them  I  could  not  remain  more  than  one  day 
to  learn  the  trade,  in  consequence  of  the  expenses  of 
keeping  my  family  there.  They  replied  that  they 
would,  with  pleasure,  give  me  all  the  instruction 
they  could  in  that  time,  but  that  it  generally  took 
three  years  to  become  accomplished  in  that  trade. 
1  soon  found  myself  at  the  bench  trying  to  make  a 
coarse  brusli.    Here  was  a  trial  of  faith  and  patience. 


LIFE  OF  Ci.  W.  HEJSKV. 


205 


I  worked  about  seven  hours  and  made  two  coarse 
brushes.  I  bought  tools  and  a  lot  of  stock,  and 
packed  them  up.  I  was  full  of  hope,  j^romising 
myself  the  greatest  success  in  the  business  of  brush- 
making.  But  I  must  tell  you  something  of  this 
benevolent  institution. 

It  lies  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  near  Fair- 
mount  Water-works.  It  is  a  large,  beautiful,  and 
well-arranged  edifice,  with  a  spacious  park  and 
gravel-walks,  where  the  Wind  promenade.  It  has 
generally  from  eighty  to  a  hundred  blind  students, 
who  there  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  rudiments  of 
English  literature,  and  there  learn  to  play  on  almost 
every  kind  of  musical  instrument,  by  means  of  em- 
bossed notes,  which  they  read  with  their  fingers,  by 
the  sense  of  feehng.  The  male  pupils,  when  out  of 
school,  are  occupied  in  making  brushes,  weaving, 
making  boots  and  shoes,  (fee.  The  females  are  en- 
gaged at  making  variegated  bead-work  of  every 
kind.  It  happened  to  be  the  night  of  their  annual 
lyceum  that  I  was  there.  It  was  not  to  be  public, 
but  I  was  invited  to  stay.  A  while  before  sundown, 
several  of  the  graduates  of  that  and  of  other  like  in- 
stitutions came  in  from  their  various  occupations  in 
the  city,  in  order  to  participate  in  the  entertain- 
ments. From  the  time  tea  was  over  till  they  met 
in  the  assembly-room,  their  attention  was  occupied 
in  social  convei-sation  on  the  general  topics  of  the 
day,  in  promenading,  music,  singing,  reading,  <fec. ; 
all  seeming  to  bo  as  familiar  with  things  foreign  and 


206 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMl'HS  IN  THK 


domestic  as  if  enjoying  their  organs  of  vision.  At 
the  hour  appointed  for  the  meeting  of  the  lyceum 
there  were  about  one  hundred  Wind  persons  seated 
in  the  assembly-room.  I  believe  every  person  in 
the  room  was  blind,  and  I  do  not  know  whether 
there  was  any  light  in  the  room  or  not.  Their 
president  called  the  meeting  to  order,  when  the 
secretary  read  the  proceedings  of  the  last  former 
meeting.  They  then  considered  and  passed  upon 
some  resolutions,  all  done  in  the  most  regular  parlia- 
mentary order.  An  address  was  delivered  by  Mr. 
Bei-ry,  a  graduate  of  that  institution,  which  was 
very  appropriate,  and  spoken  in  an  elegant  manner ; 
after  which  I  made  some  remarks,  with  a  heart 
overflowing  with  gi-atitude  at  seeing,  or  rather  per- 
ceiving, so  many  of  my  blind  companions  made  so 
comfortable,  and  furnished  with  such  excellent  facili- 
ties for  cultivating  their  minds,  and  for  becoming 
master  of  the  useful  arts,  by  which  to  procure  a 
livelihood.  I  think  a  majority  of  them  had  em- 
braced religion.  As  I  was  about  to  leave,  they 
gathered  around  me  to  bid  me  farewell,  with  as 
much  sympathy  and  cordial  fellow-feeling  as  could 
be  manifested  by  a  band  of  brothers  and  sisters,  who 
were  about  to  give  the  parting  hand  to  one  of  their 
own  number.  All  were  there  comparatively  happy ; 
but,  alas !  not  one  knew  what  lay  in  his  pathway  to 
the  lonesome  grave — how  many  sunless  days  and 
starless  nights.  Who  can  sympathize  with  the  blind 
but  the  blind  ?    Who  can  properly  value  tlie  facili- 


LIFE  OF  U.  W.  IIENKY. 


201 


ties  which  God  bestows  till  deprived  of  them? 
Who  can  duly  estimate  the  value  of  time  but  he  to 
whom  time  is  no  more  ? 

"  Oil  all  important  time,  through  every  age, 
Tho'  much,  and  warm,  the  wise  have  urged,  the  man 
Is  yet  uiiboru  who  duly  weighs  an  hour. 
'  I 've  lost  a  day ' — the  prince  who  nobly  cried. 
Had  been  an  emperor  without  his  crown : 
Of  Rome  ?  say,  rather  lord  of  human  race  ! 
He  spoke  as  if  deputed  by  mankind. 
4S0  should  all  si)eak  :  so  reason  speaks  in  all : 
From  the  soft  whispers  of  that  God  in  man, 
■Why  fly  to  folly,  why  to  frenzy  fly. 
For  rescue  from  the  blessings  we  possess"? 
Time,  the  supreme  ! — Time  is  eternity ; 
Pregnant  with  all  eternity  can  give  ; 
Pregnant  with  all  that  makes  archangels  smile ; 
Who  crushes  time,  he  crushes  in  the  birth 
A  power  ethereal,  only  not  adored." 

Think  of  this,  ye  rich  worldlings,  who  are  rob- 
bing God  of  his  tithes  and  offerings.  You  will  never 
gather  together  enough  of  this  world's  goods  to  buy 
an  hour,  or  purchase  a  wedding-garment  for  tlie 
supper  of  the  Lamb.  May  the  Lord  give  you  wis- 
dom to  lay  up  treasures  in  heaven,  by  properly  im- 
proving on  the  gifts  which  God  has  bestowed,  that 
when  earth,  with  all  its  specious  wealth,  shall  ha\  e 
passed  away,  you  may  have  an  inheritance  with  the 
saints  in  light. 

At  twelve  o'clock  that  night  I  was  seated  in  the 
cai-s,  for  Greencastle,  with  my  little  family  and  my 
apparatus  and  stock  for  brush-making,  and  tliat 
night  we  were  welcomed  home  by  the  kindly  greet- 


'208 


rUlALS  AND  I'UIUMl'HS  IN  TIIK 


ing  of  many  good  neiglibours,  about  one  hundred 
and  sixty  miles  from  Pliiladeljjhia,  and  just  one  mile 
from  Grreencastle  village,  Franklin  County. 

You  remember  we  have  just  returned  from  the 
Noi-th.  After  adjusting  our  httle  household  aflfairs 
we  resumed  housekeeping.  I  fitted  me  up  a  brusli- 
malcing  bench,  and  went  to  work  at  my  new  trade, 
fully  testing  my  faith,  courage,  and  patience.  In  a 
few  weeks  I  could  turn  out  a  brush  elegant  enough 
to  dust  the  pontifical  cloak  of  his  holiness  the  Pope. 
I  can  now  make  twenty-five  brushes  in  less  time 
and  with  much  less  ti-ouble  than  it  took  to  make 
my  first  two  at  the  Blind  Institute  ;  so  that  by  brush- 
making  and  broom-making,  through  the  blessing  of 
a  kind  Providence,  I  have  been  able  to  keep  ray 
little  barrel  and  cruse  from  being  entirely  empty, 
although  I  have  seldom  had  beforehand  more  than 
five  dollars  worth  of  provisions  at  a  time.  But  then, 
you  know  we  are  required  to  ask,  day  by  day,  for 
our  daily  bread.  Yet  I  am  often  rebuked  for  my 
distrust  of  Providence  by  tliese  words  of  our  Saviour, 
"  O,  ye  of  little  faith !"  There  is  one  text  of  Scrip- 
ture to  be  found  in  Isaiah  xlii,  16,  which  I  claim  as 
peculiarly  my  own,  both  as  regards  temporal  and 
spiritual  things,  for  I  have  often  realized,  in  both 
these,  the  precious  promises  which  it  contains:  "I 
will  bring  the  blind  by  a  way  that  they  knew  riot ; 
I  will  lead  them  in  paths  that  they  have  Jiot  known 
I  will  make  darkness  light  before  them,  and  crooked 
things  straight;  these  things  will  I  do  unto  them, 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


209 


and  not  forsake  tlicm."  Yes,  glory  to  his  lioly  name ! 
lie  will  never  forsake  tliem  that  love  him. 

"  E'en  down  to  old  i»ge  my  people  shall  prove 

My  sovereign,  eternal,  nnchangeable  love ; 

And  then,  when  gray  h.airs  shall  their  temples  adorn, 

Like  lambs  they  shall  still  in  my  bosom  be  borne. 

"  The  soul  that  on  Jesus  doth  lean  for  repose, 

I  will  not,  I  will  not  desert  to  his  foes  ; 

That  soul,  though  all  hell  should  endeavour  to  shake, 

I'll  never — no  never — no  never  forsake." 
I  liave  proved  the  Lord  thus  fai-,  and  found  him 
as  gootl  as  liis  word ;  and  I  am  willing  to  trust  all 
things  in  his  hands  for  all  future  time.  O,  Lord, 
lielp  me  to  fight  a  good  fight  and  to  keep  the  faith,  that 
I  may  exclaim,  even  in  death,  like  pious  Edwards, 
"  Trust  the  Lord  !"  "  When  thy  heart  and  flosli  fail 
thee  I  will  be  thy  ^wrtion,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts." 
Yea,  we  may  trust  him  still  farther ;  he  has  promised 
to  watch  over  our  dust  until  the  morning  of  the  resur- 
rection. 

"  Roll  on,  roll  on,  ye  wheels  of  time, 
And  give  the  joyful  day." 

No  dift'crence  whether  we  fall  on  the  land  or  the 
sea ;  still,  like  the  family  of  Abraham,  we  like  to  be 
buried  with  our  fathers  and  friends.  I  took  up  tlie 
remains  of  my  little  daughter  from  the  lonesome 
hills  of  Virginia,  and  bore  thero,  as  the  sons  of  Jacob 
bore  their  brother  Joseph,  to  the  land  of  her  fathers, 
and  laid  her  in  the  family  burying-ground  in  Penn- 
sylvania. 

"There  sweet  be  her  rest,  till  He  bid  her  arise, 
To  hail  liim  in  triiim))h  desrcndins-  the  skies." 
M 


210 


TRIALS  AND  TUIUMPHS  IN  Tllf: 


CHATTER  XIV. 

Although  religion,  or  rather  the  hankering  and 
thirsting  after  it,  in  many  places  and  among  most 
denominations  of  Christians  is  languishing,  yet  I 
think,  in  all  meekness  and  humility,  and,  notwith- 
standing my  waywardness,  through  the  mercy  of 
God  I  have  constantly  grown  in  grace  and  in  the 
knowledge  of  God  :  every  month  and  j'ear  has  been 
found  better  than  its  predecessor,  and  my  faith  has 
never  been  stronger  nor  my  prospect  brighter  for 
the  promised  land  than  at  present,  while  dictating 
this  little  narrative.  Says  the  apostle,  "  When  I 
was  a  child  I  spoke  as  a  child,  I  miderstood  as  a 
child,  I  thouglit  as  a  child  ;  but  when  I  became  a 
man  I  put  away  childish  things."  As  earthly  parents 
pass  over  many  imperfections  and  follies  in  the  little 
child  which  they  would  by  no  means  tolerate  in 
one  of  mature  age  and  judgment,  so  my  Heavenly 
Father  has  borne  with  numerous  of  my  imperfections 
and  blessed  me  abundantly,  which  he  would  not  by 
any  means  do  now  that  I  have  received  more  light 
and  knowledge.  When  I  entered  into  the  spiritual 
kingdom  I  carried  with  me,  like  Peter,  many  errors 
and  prejudices  of  earlier  life,  which  I  have  reason 
to  thank  God  are  now  far  removed  through  the  in- 
strumentality of  holy  preaching  which  was  con- 
firmed by  the  wnrd  of  re\  (>lation. 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIEXRY. 


•211 


Wliile  Homg  tho  work  of  the  Gentiles  I  occasion- 
ally heard  enforced  the  doctrine  of  jjerfeet  love, 
Christian  perfection,  entire  sanctificatiou,  and  holi- 
ness of  heart.  These  were  rather  chimerical  and 
extravagant  doctrines  to  me,  and  I  ventured  to 
chime  with  others  in  ridiculing  such  ideas ;  with  all 
my  cherished  respect  for  rehgion  I  did  not  believe 
that  such  a  state  of  gi-ace  was  attainable  by  mor- 
tals in  this  world.  I  therefore,  for  the  fii-st  year  after 
ray  conversion,  like  too  many  professors  of  relig- 
ion, instead  of  trying  how  holy  and  how  close 
with  God  it  was  possible  for  liie  to  walk,  it  was 
probably  a  question  in  my  mind  how  much  sin  the 
Lord  would  countenance  in  his  professed  disciples. 
I  was  decidedly  a  latitudinarian  in  my  construction 
of  the  requirements  of  Sci-ipture.  Now,  if  a  man 
has  not  faith  to  believe  a  certain  object  attainable, 
he  will  be  very  unlikely  to  put  forth  an  adequate 
eflbrt  to  possess  it.  But  God  has  promised  to 
make  darkness  light  before  us,  and  crooked  things 
staight ;  and,  blessed  be  his  holy  name,  he  has  thus 
far  on  my  pilgrimage  redeemed  his  promises  to  the 
spirit  and  letter — yea,  far  exceeding  my  expectation. 

I  had  now  been  coasting  for  about  a  year  <ilong 
the  shores  of  justification,  amidst  rocks  and  sand- 
bars. I  had  no  desire  to  bury  my  talent  in  the 
earth,  neither  did  I  feel  it  indispensably  necessary 
to  put  it  out  to  usury,  supposing,  rather,  that  the 
Lord  would  be  satisfied  if  I  should  return  to  him 
when  he  came  to  reckon  with  me  the  talent  he  had 


212 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


l>estowed.  But  in  his  abundant  mercy  lie  winked 
at  tlii^  ignorance,  until  I  was  tauglit  that  there 
were  better,  higher,  nobler  attainments  in  my  spir- 
itual career  which  I  might  secure.  About  this  time, 
while  sitting  under  the  droppings  of  the  sanctuary, 
the  doctrine  of  holiness  of  heart  and  entire  sanctiti- 
cation  was  preached  by  one  of  God's  holy  ambassa- 
dors, by  means  of  which  the  Holy  Ghost  awakened 
the  sleeping  energies  of  my  soul  to  the  all-import- 
ant subject.  I  followed  the  preacher  to  his  lodg- 
ings to  give  him  battle  on  that  subject.  I  brought 
forward  as  many  arguments  as  I  could  think  of 
against  him  in  order  to  bring  out  the  whole  truth 
in  support  of  the  doctrine,  which  he  snccessftiUy 
maintained  by  the  word  of  God.  There  also  ap- 
peared about  that  time  an  article  in  the  Christian 
Advocate  on  the  subject  of  holiness,  well  fortified 
by  Scrijiture.  It  was  read  to  me  one  afternoon  at 
the  house  of  brother  Keag}',  while  on  an  afternoon 
visit  in  company  with  several  of  our  sisters  in  the 
Lord  ;  among  the  number  were  two  old  mothers  in 
Israel — mother  Cornman  and  mother  Culbertson — 
who  were  then  able  to  unite  their  testimony  with 
the  beloved  disciples  that  "in  Him  there  is  no 
darkness  at  all,"  and  that  it  is  our  privilege  to  "  walk 
in  the  light  as  He  is  in  the  light,  and  have  fellow- 
ship one  with  another,"  and  that  "  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  from  all  sin."  I  now  fully 
resolved  to  "  leave  the  things  that  are  behind  and 
]iress  forward  to  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  our  high 


LtFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


213 


calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesns,"  and  to  "  leave  the 
first  j^rinciples  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ  and  go  on 
to  perfection,"  as  Christ  has  bidden  all  his  follow- 
ers ;  and,  before  breaking  up  our  party,  we  knelt  at 
the  throne  of  grace  in  humble  prayer  for  the  bless- 
ing of  perfect  love  to  God,  and  for  Scriptural  holi- 
ness ;  and  that  was  the  time  and  place  that  I  began 
to  apply  the  oars  of  prayer  and  faith  to  launch  my 
little  bark  from  the  shores  of  justification  into  the 
deep  waters  of  the  ocean  of  love. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

It  was  now  in  the  summer  of  1844.  Some  of  my 
brethren  had  at  different  times  asked  me  if  I 
thought  I  had  not  a  call  to  exhort.  I  was  quite 
astonished  at  such  an  idea,  and  looked  upon  it  as 
presumptuous  in  them  to  suggest  or  think  of  such 
a  thing,  for  I  was  sensible  not  only  of  my  physical 
blindness,  but  of  my  ignorance  of  the  Scriptures ;  in 
addition  to  that  I  was  very  poor,  and  felt  unable  to 
hire  any  one  to  read  to  me,  knowing  at  the  same 
time  that  it  would  require  nearly  or  quite  all  of  my 
wife's  time  to  take  care  of  her  household  affairs. 
But  from  the  very  time  that  I  began  to  launch  out 
into  the  deep,  my  mind  began  to  be  loaded  with 
the  conviction  that  God  had  something  for  me  to  do 
in  tlie  great  harvest-field,  while  my  inquiry  was 


214 


TKIALS  AND  TIUUMPHS  IN  THE 


like  Paul's  when  he  was  converted,  "Lord,  what 
wilt  thou  have  me  to  do?"  I  went  to  the  elder 
brethren  with  my  case,  who  at  once  gave  me  li- 
cense to  exhort.  A  door  seemed  to  be  open  at 
once  for  me  to  enter  the  field.  My  first  attempt 
was  in  the  Methodist  church  at  Greencastle.  There 
was  quite  a  large  congregation  gathered  on  Sab- 
bath evening  to  witness  how  the  blind  man  would 
succeed  in  his  first  attempt  at  this  new  undertaking. 
The  cross  bore  heavier  and  lieavier  as  the  appointed 
time  drew  near.  T  had  attempted  to  an-ange 
something  in  my  mind  to  say,  but,  as  I  arose  to 
speak,  my  notes  that  I  had  attempted  to  write  on 
tlie  tablet  of  my  memory  were  not  to  be  found ;  so 
I  had  to  trust  to  the  Spirit  to  teach  me  what  to  say. 
I  talked  away,  hacked  and  hennned  for  about  half 
an  hour,  and  the  meeting  was  concluded.  The  ad- 
versary of  my  soul  you  may  be  sure  was  on  the 
alert  to  tempt  and  try  me ;  but  I  had  by  this  time 
become  somewhat  acquainted  with  his  devices  and 
wiles,  and  I  was  fully  resolved  to  do  the  will  of  the 
Lord  according  to  the  wisdom  and  strength  given  me. 

Tlie  next  move  I  made  Avas  to  go  into  the  coun- 
try with  old  father  Hawbecker,  a  good,  humble, 
devoted  German  preacher,  who  preached  sometimes 
in  Dutch  and  at  other  times  in  broken  Enghsh,  and 
I  exhorted  the  congregations  in  Enghsh.  The 
people  in  those  neighbourhoods  generall)^  imder- 
sLuod  both  languages.  I  found  that  every  time  I 
occupied  I  became  more  familiar  with  the  use  of 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HKKHV. 


215 


the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  people  gave  good 
attention,  and  seemed  to  be  intei-ested,  if  not  edified  ; 
and  the  best  of  all,  the  Lord  was  with  me,  and  that 
to  bless.  I  soon  began  to  make  preparations  to  go 
to  the  North  ;  but  there  was  a  camp-meeting  to  take 
place  on  the  6th  of  September  in  Franklin  County, 
also  one  in  Maryland  near  by.  Dear  reader,  you 
would  not  expect  that  such  a  lover  of  camp-meet- 
ings as  I  could  turn  his  back  on  two  such  great 
and  heavenly  spiritual  feasts ;  for  I  do  really  think 
that  a  Holy  Ghost  camp-meeting,  where  the  breth- 
ren and  sisters  flock  in  from  the  East  and  West,  the 
North  and  South,  and  sit  together  in  heavenly  places 
as  the  children  of  a  King,  to  drink  freely  of  the 
"  wine  on  the  lees  well  refined,"  and  to  partake  of 
"  fat  things  full  of  marrow," — such  a  place  I  think 
is  more  like  heaven  than  any  other  on  earth.  The 
saints  retire  to  their  beds  after  feasting  through  the 
day  full  of  glory  and  of  God,  and  fall  asleep  amidst 
shouts  and  heavenly  anthems  from  a  few  souls  that 
are  too  happy  to  retire  or  to  sleep.  Like  the  psalmist, 
they  "  delight  to  do  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  in  his 
law  do  meditate  day  and  night."  When  at  the 
break  of  day  they  are  aroused  from  their  celestial 
dreams  and  visions  by  the  sound  of  the  trumpet 
that  calls  them  to  duty,  the  silence  of  the  morning 
is  broken  by  the  song  of  praise  and  voice  of  prayer 
to  the  God  of  Israel  from  the  family  altars  ;  and 
jxTliaps  before  those  that  commenced  ilie  morning 
oblation  arise  from  their  kncos  the  voice  of  jirayei 


'JIG  TUIALS  ANO  TKlLiNU'llij  IN  TICE 


and  singing  may  be  heard  from  every  tent  in  the 
grove.  0,  what  a  happy  day  will  that  be  when 
every  house  becomes  a  house  of  prayer,  and  every 
lieart  a  fit  temple  for  the  Holy  Ghost  to  dwell  in ! 
— when  neighbour  shall  not  have  to  say  to  neigh- 
bour, Know  yon  the  Lord  ?  for  all  sliall  know  him 
from  the  least  to  the  greatest !  But  it  is  not  like 
heaven  after  .ill :  for  there  is  no  night  there ;  tliey 
need  no  candle,  neither  the  light  of  the  sun,  for  the 
Lord  God  giveth  them  light ;  and  they  shall  reign 
forever  and  ever.  Rev,  xxii,  5.  No,  no !  glory  be 
to  God,  that  will  be  a  congi-egation  that  will  never 
break  up. 

I  had  now  lived  in  those  two  meetings  ten  or 
twelve  days.  I  shall  never  forget  that  morning  of 
tears  and  of  joy  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  last  one, 
which  was  in  Pennsylvania.  The  night  previous 
was  one  of  the  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord : 
many  souls  were  born  into  tlie  kingdom,  and  were 
sliouting  glory.  I  had  been  about  as  happy  during 
the  wliole  time  of  the  meeting  as  I  could  be  and 
live  on  earth.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning 
the  processions  were  formed  in  circles ;  probably 
they  would  number  five  hundred.  The  circles  were 
so  formed  that  each  brother  and  sister  could  give 
the  parting  hand  as  they  moved  past  each  other. 
To  me  it  was  solemn,  yet  glorious  beyond  the  reach 
of  my  feeble  power  of  description  :  for  that  very  day 
I  w  as  to  leave  for  the  North  ;  T  was  to  be  separated 
from  so  many  of  my  heavenly  Father's  children, 


LIFE  OK  G.  W.  HEXKV. 


217 


probably  to  meet  no  more  till  the  resurrection 
morn. 

"  Blest  be  the  dear  uuitiug  love 

That  will  not  lot  us  part : 
Our  bodies  may  far  off  remove, 

We  still  are  one  in  heart. 

"  Join'd  in  one  spirit  to  our  Head, 

Where  he  appoints  we  go  ; 
And  still  in  Jesus'  footsteps  tread, 

And  show  his  praise  below. 

"  Partakers  of  the  Saviour's  grace, 

The  same  in  mind  and  heart. 
Nor  joy,  nor  grief,  nor  time,  nor  place. 

Nor  life,  nor  death  can  part. 

"  Then  let  us  hasten  to  the  day 

Which  shall  our  flesh  restore  ; 
When  death  shall  all  be  done  away. 

And  Christians  part  no  more  !" 

The  27th  of  September,  1844,  we  returned  to 
thi.s  country,  the  theatre  of  my  youthful  days  ;  and 
on  the  27th  of  November  we  were  blessed  with  a 
fine  boy.  No  parent's  heart  Avas  ever  filled  with 
more  joy  and  gratitude  to  Him  that  giveth  and 
taketh  away,  than  was  mine,  lioping  if  we  should 
both  be  spared,  in  a  few  years,  b)'  the  blessing  of 
God,  he  would  be  eyes  and  a  staff  to  his  blind 
father.  O  that  God  may  give  me  grace,  wisdom, 
and  patience  to  rear  him  in  the  nurture  and  admoni- 
tion of  the  Lord,  as  a  Samuel,  or  Timothy,  that 
when  I  am  old  he  may  rise  up  and  call  me  blessed ; 
at  the  same  time  may  I  be  able  to  keep  him  on  that 
altar  that  sanctifieth  tlie  gift. 


218  TRIALS  AND  XKIIMI'IIS  IN  THE 


Not  long  after  returning  home  I  was  invited  by 
the  brethren  to  preacli  or  exhort  in  the  meeting- 
house near  Grain's  Corners,  in  Litchfield  ;  to  stand 
before  not  a  few  of  the  companions  of  my  boyhood 
who  were  foniiliar  with  the  follies  and  indiscretions 
of  my  youth.  It  was  a  very  cold  day,  and  a  small 
assembly  convened  in  that  large  church,  the  females 
gathered  around  one  stove,  and  the  males  around 
the  other,  on  the  right  and  left  of  the  pulpit.  Had 
I  conferred  with  flesh  and  blood,  1  should  probably 
have  shrunk  from  that  duty;  but,  thank  God,  al- 
though weak  and  imperfect,  I  do  not  think  I  ever 
shrunk  from  a  known  duty  since  he  called  me  to 
labour  in  his  vineyard  :  but  I  think  if  I  was  ever 
left  to  myself,  and  to  the  buffetings  of  Satan,  it  was 
when  I  was  trying  to  preach  at  that  time.  The 
devil  would  whisper  in  my  ears  that  I  was  nothing 
but  George  Henry  that  used  to  perform  so  many 
antics  in  that  neighbourhood,  and  that  all  the  con- 
gregation knew  it,  while  to  my  imagination  there 
was  piled  up  before  me  a  large  stack  of  boards 
which  I  seemed  to  be  addressing.  This  I  will  assure 
you  was  up-hill  work.  But  I  worried  out  about 
half  an  hour,  and  requested  one  of  the  brethren  to 
close  the  meeting  by  prayer.  I  was  then  humble 
enough  in  feeling  to  crawl  down  through  a  hole  in 
the  floor,  had  there  been  one,  to  hide  from  human 
observation.  Our  Saviour  very  truly  remarks,  that 
a  prophet  is  not  without  honour,  save  in  his  own 
country.    But  I  soon  through  grace  got  the  victory 


LIFE  Of  G.  W.  UESUY. 


219 


over  the  devil,  and  pronounced  him  a,  Har  ;  for,  not- 
withstanding I  bore  the  same  name  as  in  former 
times,  still  I  was  not  the  same  man.  "  He  that  is 
in  Christ  is  a  new  creature;  old  things  are  done 
away,  and  all  things  are  become  new."  So  I  got 
the  devil  behind  me,  and  pressed  forward  for  the 
crown. 

Dooi-s  were  opened  in  one  place  and  another,  and 
I  occupied  as  an  exhorter  till  the  spring  of  1845, 
when  I  obtained  license  to  preach.  I  now  sustained 
another  severe  attack  from  the  enemy.  I  had  an 
opportunity  to  preach  on  Frankfort  Hill  the  next 
Sabbath  after  receiving  authority  to  preach ;  and  if 
I  ever  groaned  under  trials  and  temptations,  it  was 
during  the  Friday  and  Saturday  previous  to  my 
first  attempt  under  a  preacher's  license.  The  sorest 
trial  of  all  was,  tliat  I  imagined  that  my  wife  was 
opposed  to  my  preaching,  and  every  mole-hill  was 
magnified  to  a  mountain.  Saturday  night,  as  I  re- 
tired for  the  night,  I  endeavoured  to  unbosom  my- 
self to  the  Lord,  and  asked  him  to  let  me  know  by 
a  dream  that  night  whether  he  had  called  me  to 
preach  his  gospel,  or  whether  I  was  going  forth 
unbidden.  I  presume  I  had  not  been  asleep  more 
than  five  minutes,  before  I  dreamed  as  follows  : — I 
thought  I  went  with  a  basket  in  pursuit  of  some 
fresh  meat  for  my  family.  I  soon  came  to  one  of 
the  pleasantest-looking  men  I  ever  saw,  dressing  a 
lamb.  1  told  him  I  wanted  some  meat ;  and  he 
then  lay  before  me  the  right  shoulder  of  a  beef, 


220  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


richly  variegated  witli  fat  and  lean.  He  lold  me  to 
take  it  up,  which  I  obeyed,  and  undertook  to  carry 
it  away  :  it  seemed  to  bear  down  on  me  with  great 
weight.  I  attempted  several  times  to  lay  it  down, 
but  could  not.  After  I  had  removed  it  a  distance, 
this  same  man  that  I  saw  dressing  the  lamb  came 
and  took  it  from  me,  his  countenance  appearing 
heavenly,  and  he  smiled  upon  me  as  he  relieved  me 
of  the  burden.  I  then  awoke  with  a  degree  of  joy, 
and  felt  as  much  relieved  as  if  it  had  been  a  literal 
transaction.  The  interpretation  was  then  brought 
to  my  mind,  referring  back  to  the  law  of  types  and 
shadows  :  Levit.  viii,  25.  Here  you  see  the  right 
shoulder  was  given  to  the  priests  for  a  wave-offering, 
and  placed  upon  their  hands  until  Moses  (who  was 
the  type  of  Christ)  took  it  from  them.  So,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  I  am  resolved  to  bear  this  wave-offer- 
ing until  Christ  shall  say,  It  is  enough,  and  permit 
me  to  exchange  it  for  a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth 
not  away.  This  dream,  in  addition  to  the  dictation 
of  the  Spirit,  confirmed  me  and  encouraged  me  to 
go  forth  as  an  ambassador  of  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and 
I  have  endeavoured  to  preach  almost  every  Sabbath 
since,  and  sometimes  two  or  three  times  a  day ;  and 
thus  far  I  have  proved  him  faithful  to  fulfil  the  last 
promise  to  his  disciples  before  his  ascension,  when 
he  commanded  them  to  go  forth  and  preach  his 
gospel — "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  always,  even  to  the 
end  of  the  world."  And  blessed  be  God,  I  do  not 
recollect  of  ever  entering  the  sacred  desk  without 


LIFE  OF  U.  W,  IIEXRV. 


221 


special  manifestation  of  his  presence.  lie  has  al- 
ways filled  my  mouth  with  something  to  say :  my 
greatest  difBculty  has  been  that  I  am  disposed  to 
say  too  much,  and  that  I  do  not  know  when  to 
stop,  seeming  to  he  insensible  of  the  fleetness  of 
time.  An  old  preacher,  who  is  able  to  show  him- 
self a  workman,  would  doubtless  edify  and  instruct 
a  congregation  more  in  half  an  hour  than  I  would 
in  double  that  time.  So  much  for  my  preaching, 
and  so  much  for  my  dreaming. 


CIIArXER  XVI. 

Reader,  at  this  point  I  found  myself  again  under 
solemn  conviction,  strange  as  it  may  appear;  and 
this  was  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  While  an 
humble  local  preacher,  a  hard-working  faiTner  was 
simplifying  the  w^ay  of  holiness ;  he  was  made  the 
agent  in  the  hands  of  God  of  rousing  up  my  re- 
deemed powers  and  brightening  my  spiritual  eye, 
and  giving  me  a  panting  after  greater  riches. 

I  have  heard  that  among  the  early  gold-diggers 
in  California,  three  men,  while  walking  on  the 
bank  of  a  river,  saw  at  a  Uttle  distance  a  golden 
strand  of  yellow  dust  that  had  been  washed  out  of 
the  rock  near  by.  They  saw  at  once  that  they  had 
stumbled  upon  an  almost  inexhaustible  treasure ;  but 
to  prevent  any  jealousy  in  the  distribution  of  it,  they 


222 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


!i<Trced  that  each  man  should  have  all  that  he  could 
embrace,  by  falling  down  and  stretching  out  both 
his  hands.  They  then  advanced  and  fell  upon  the 
golden  sand,  and  each  man  spanned  to  his  utmost 
and  marked  his  portion.  Do  you  not  think,  reader, 
you  would  have  made  a  long  arm  on  that  golden 
opportunity  ?  So  I  felt.  My  eyes  Avere  opened,  and 
I  saw  in  the  distance  the  inexhaustible  treasure, 
the  gold  that  perisheth  not,  enough  not  only  to 
enrich  me  but  the  whole  world.  I  saw  and  I  be- 
lieved ;  but  as  I  began  to  move  towards  it  I  met 
the  universal  foe,  more  formidable  than  the  host  of 
Pharaoh,  the  Red  Sea,  or  the  Alpine  mountain.  It 
was  the  same  enemy  that,  with  his  single  arm, 
beat  back  six  hundred  thousand  men  of  war,  and 
caused  their  bones  to  bleach  on  the  desert  of  Ara- 
bia, so  that  they  never  entered  into  the  promised 
land. 

But,  says  the  reader,  pray  tell  us  the  name  of 
this  mighty  potentate.  I  will  let  the  apostle  an- 
swer :  "  They  entered  not  in  because  of  unbelief." 
Remember,  reader,  we  have  now  our  eye  upon  the 
rich  treasure  that  lieth  in  the  distance — a  treasure 
far  superior  to  anything  that  the  richest  mines  of 
earth  can  produce.  It  is  nothing  less  than  to  be 
sanctified  wholly — soul,  body,  and  spirit.  We  are 
not  now  seeking  for  the  pardon  of  our  sins,  but  to 
be  made  perfect  in  the  love  of  God.  We  are  now 
leaving  the  milk,  and  calling  on  the  Father  for 
strong  meat. 


LIFE  OF  Ci.  W.  HENRV. 


223 


Our  petition  is  definite,  and  we  exjwet  a  definite 
Answer,  that  is,  the  very  thing  we  ask  for ;  for  we  saw 
in  the  distance  the  Spirit  raising  up  a  standard,  upon 
which  was  written  in  golden  characters  the  com- 
mand, peremptory  and  unquahfied,  "Be  ye  holy, 
for  I  am  holy."  At  this  juncture  of  the  case,  tempta- 
tions came  in  like  a  flood.  Like  the  sacrifice  spread 
out  by  Abraham,  I  found  my  oflering  set  upon  by 
strange  birds,  which  sought  to  pick  it  away.  But 
Abraham's  ftiith  failed  not  Although  a  horror  of 
great  darkness  fell  upon  liim,  yet  he  with  vigilance 
watched  and  warded  ofl"  the  foul  birds  until  the 
time  of  the  evening  sacrifice,  when,  in  God's  own 
time,  he  sent  down  the  smoking  furnace  and  the 
burning  lamp.  Thus  was  I  called  upon  to  contend 
with  the  emissaries  sent  by  tlie  enemy  of  all 
righteousness  to  drive  me  from  my  purpose.  The 
first  that  victorious  faith  drove  away  was  a  modest 
little  devil,  who  whispered  that  to  expect  such  a 
high  state  of  grace  might  do  for  now  and  then  a 
D.  D.  in  God's  Lebanon  ;  but  that  it  was  presump- 
tion for  a  poor  man,  who  had  been  recently  quarried 
out  of  Egypt's  hoiTible  pit,  to  think  of  such  a  thing. 
The  next  messenger  of  Satan  sent  to  buffet  me  came 
clothed  in  the  form  of  an  angel  of  hght,  telling  me 
that  I  was  unworthy  to  receive  so  great  a  blessing. 

I  was  like  a  little  yellow  bird  I  remember 
catching  when  I  was  a  boy.  I  tied  a  long  string  to 
it  ajul  then  let  it  fly,  and  just  as  the  poor  little 
trembler  was  rejoicing  in  its  escape,  it  would  come 


224  THIALS  AND  TUIl  MI'lIS  I.V  TIIK 


to  tlic  end  of  the  string,  and  be  pulled  back  into 
eapti\ity  again.  So  it  was  with  me  when  faith 
would  begin  to  plume  her  \  ictorious  wing,  and  just 
as  I  was  hoping  to  escape  my  tormentoi-,  I  would 
find  my  feet  entangled  in  some  new  snare.  But 
man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity,  and  no  doubt 
he  often  permits  the  seeking  soul  to  run  into  the 
greatest  difficulties  on  purpose  to  show  us  where 
our  own  wisdom  would  lead  us,  and  to  make  known 
his  power  in  our  deliverance.  It  is  when  the  Red 
Sea  is  before  us,  an  impassable  mountain  on  either 
side,  and  Pharaoh's  host  in  the  rear,  that  we  may 
look  for  a  miracle  of  mercy  to  be  wrought  in  our  de- 
liverance. In  seeking  for  justification  I  tried  a  great 
many  ways  before  I  tried  faith  in  Christ.  And  now 
I  had  not  grown  so  wise  by  past  experience,  but 
that  I  had  to  work  up  about  the  same  amount  of 
rubbish,  so  perverse  is  the  human  heart.  I  have 
heard  persons  who  professed  to  have  a  justified  re- 
lation toward  God,  when  spoken  to  about  holiness 
of  heart,  say  they  did  not  feel  worthy  to  enjoy  so 
great  a  blessing.  How  absurd  !  to  think  that  you 
can  ho.  justified  in  the  sight  of  God  while  trampling 
under  feet  his  express  command,  "Be  ye  holy." 
But,  says  one,  how  can  it  be  that  a  pei-son  just  con- 
verted is  so  happy,  and  so  ready  to  die,  and  a  little 
while  after  conversion  we  find  him  preaching  that 
without  holiness  we  can  never  see  the  Lord  ?  I  will 
tell  you  how,  and  may  every  one  who  reads  these 
lines  remember  the  solemn  truth.    Justification  is 


I.IKK  i)K  i:.  W.  IIIONUV. 


•22;-) 


tlio  lii-st  degree  of  holiness.  The  justified  soul  is  rec- 
onciled to  (.rod,  and,  if  called  immediately  to  enter 
heaven,  goes  fully  prepared  into  the  presence  of  its 
Maker.  God  cuts  sliort  the  work  in  righteousness, 
liut  to  retain  this  state  of  reconciliation  with  God, 
we  must  walk  in  all  his  ordinances  blameless.  lie 
commands  us  to  go  on  to  perfection.  Can  we  feel 
justified  in  neglectinf/  that  command  ?  Suppose 
you  tell  your  son  to  go  to  scliool ;  he  says,  "  Yes, 
father,"  and  starts  inmiediately.  You  smile  with 
ai)probation,  and  feel  pleased  with  his  ready  obe- 
dience. Suppose  that  when  he  gets  half-way  there 
he  falls  down  and  breaks  liis  leg.  He  is  brought 
home.  Do  you  feel  displeased  because  he  did  not 
go  to  scliool,  as  you  told  him  ?  Certainly  not ;  he 
obeyed  you  as  far  as  he  had  the  power,  and  you 
take  him  in  your  arms  with  feelings  of  the  greatest 
tenderness  and  love.  Just  so  Christ  receives  the 
soul  that,  saying  in  his  heart,  "  Yes,  Father,"  has 
started  on  his  heavenly  journey.  There  is  no  re- 
bellion, no  disobedience  in  that  heart.  Suppose 
now,  instead  of  meeting  with  an  accident,  your  boy 
had  stopped  to  gather  beech-nuts,  and  tailed  to 
reach  the  school  until  the  afternoon,  would  not  the 
I>leasure  with  which  he  received  your  smile  of  ap- 
probation in  the  morning  give  place  to  a  feeling  of 
guilt  ?  Could  he  feel  that  his  father  was  pleased 
with  him,  until  he  confessed  his  error  and  hastened 
to  obey  ?  Observe,  he  did  not  incur  guilt  by  going 
l)ack,  but  by  s/nppinf/  on  the  road.    This  \yjll  show 


■J'2C  riiiAi.s  AM)  ri!u  Mi'iis  in  tiik 

iIk^  fallacy  in  the  reasoning  of  those  who  contemi 
that  tl^e  soul,  once  prepared  to  die,  cannot  become 
unprepared,  except  by  receding  from  that  point. 

Take  care:  the  cry  of  iniworthiness  will  avail 
nothing  at  the  bar  of  God.  The  command  is  plain. 
How  often  have  I  heard  brethren  and  sisters  say, 
and  that  too  with  great  boldness,  that  they  knew 
that  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  had  forgiven  all  their 
sins ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  let  one  ask  them 
if  they  enjoy  holiness  of  heart,  they  would  almost 
taint  at  the  very  idea,  and  reply  at  once  that  they 
"  never  felt  themselves  worthy  of  that  great  bless- 
ing." 

I  ask  you,  my  dear  leader.  How  came  you  by  the 
l>iessing  of  justification  ?  One  would  suppose  by 
your  talk  that  you  received  it  by  your  own  merit 
Alas !  what  a  rock  is  this  on  whicli  thousands  are 
sniiering  shipwreck.  Suppose  you  ask  the  returned 
l^rodigal  what  he  paid  for  his  spotless  robe  and  his 
ring  of  gold,  he  will  point  you  to  the  bundle  of  old 
filthy  i-ags  at  the  pool  where  he  washed.  And, 
i-eader,  whether  you  are  saint  or  sinner,  this  is  all 
you  have  got  to  give  in  exchange  for  either  justifi- 
cation or  sanctification.  The  poet  has  it  exactly 
right : 

"  Nothing  but  sin  have  I  to  give, 
Nothing  but  love  do  I  receive." 

Would  you  not  think  it  strange  to  see  an  individual 
gather  up  a  hundred  pounds  of  filthy  rags  in  the 
streets  and  excliange  them  at  the  bank  for  a  hun- 


LIFE  OK  U.  W.  IlENRV. 


227 


(Ired  pounds  of  pure  gold  ?  Would  you  not  won- 
der to  see  a  ragged,  desolate  female  exchanging  her 
old  sun-bonnct  for  Victoria's  crown,  which  cost  its 
millions  ?  This  would  be  strange  indeed,  but  not 
lialf  as  wonderful,  or  as  profitable,  or  as  easy,  as  the 
way  of  salvation  by  faith.  I  will  give  you  the 
character  of  one  or  two  more  of  these  foul  birds,  or 
temptations,  that  pollute  the  sacrifice  and  greatly 
embarrass  those  who  are  seeking  a  clean  heart. 
We  are  determined  to  tell  the  truth  and  shame  the 
devil,  by  exposing  his  devices,  and  thereby  make 
the  way  plain  tor  others.  He  will  tell  you,  that  if 
you  get  the  gi-eat  blessing  you  will  not  be  able  to 
live  it  daily.  He  will  remind  you  that  you  live 
in  an  irreligious  family,  or  are  connected  with  a 
lukewarm  Church.  Here  let  us  meet  him  with  the 
stubborn  fact  that  there  were  a  few  persons  who 
lived  in  wicked  Sardis  who  had  not  defiled  tlieir 
garments,  but  were  walking  with  Jesus  in  white,  or, 
in  other  Vt'ords,  in  purity  and  heavenly  joy.  Hei-e, 
again,  let  us  spread  out  the  wiiting.  God  has 
pledged  not  only  to  make  us  pure,  but  to  preserve 
us  pure  until  his  coming.  This  white  garment 
must  be  worn  every  day  of  our  lives,  and  in  every 
circle  in  which  we  move,  and  be  kept  unspotted 
from  the  world. 

A  lady  was  once  asked  why  she  did  not  wear 
her  white  dress  every  day?  She  replied,  "Be- 
cause it  got  dirty  so  quick."  This  is  not  true.  A 
white  dress  is  no  more  susceptible  of  dirt  than  black 


228  TRIALS  AND  TRU'MI'HS  IN  THE 


or  gray.  The  only  diflerence  is,  tho  vvliite  shows 
the  dirt  plainer.  Is  not  this  the  great  reason  that 
more  Christians  do  not  walk  daily  in  white  ? 

The  last  formidable  foe  that  was  brought  out  for 
us  to  contend  with,  like  Job's  wife,  when  everything 
else  had  failed,  was  our  darling  reputation.  Full 
and  complete  salvation  proposes  to  make  us  like 
Jesus ;  and  one  prominent  feature  in  his  character 
was,  that  he  made  himself  of  no  i-eputation.  This 
was  a  stigma  that  he  brought  upon  himself  by  the 
bold  position  he  took  against  popular  sins,  especially 
those  that  were  found  in  the  Church.  It  is  written, 
"They  that  will  live  godly  in  Christ  .Jesus  shall 
suffer  persecution."  Let  a  preacher,  or  a  class-leader, 
begin  to  war  with  popuhu-  sins  in  or  out  of  the 
Church,  and  he  will  find  that  he  has  waked  up  a 
hornet's  nest ;  but  if  you  have  not  got  your  reputa- 
tion nailed  to  the  cross,  you  will  not  be  apt  to  do 
this  duty ;  therefore,  ye  seeker,  count  well  the  cost 
and  agree  to  pay  this  price,  and  you  have  nothing 
to  do  but  to  lay  your  hand  on  the  pearl.  Amen. 
May  the  Lord  help  you. 

I  will  now  tell  you  how  I  found  the  great  blessing. 
There  was  a  camp-meeting  appointed  on  the  Her- 
kimer and  Frankfort  Charge,  in  the  fall  of  1845,  un- 
der the  superintendence  of  brother  B.  J.  Diefendorf, 
H  faithful  and  much-loved  preacher,  who  had 
laboured  the  last  two  years  in  this  valley  of  dry 
bones  with  great  acceptability.  His  aged  and  vener- 
able colleague  fell  asleep  in  Jesus  a  few  months 


LIFE  Ob-  c;.  W.  IIEKKY. 


229 


since,  and  proclaimed,  in  the  face  of  death,  that  he 
had  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  perfect  love,  I  think,  for 
about  twenty  years.  He  was  a  living  epistle  that 
might  be  read  and  known  in  every  circle  in  which 
he  moved.  A  more  triumphant  death  is  seldoin 
recorded  thau  was  his. 

But  when  the  day  had  arrived  for  Israel  to  pitch 
their  tents  in  the  forest,  your  humble  author,  with 
his  little  ftimily,  was  with  them,  the  little  canvass 
house  being  set  in  order.  Soon  the  voice  of  fervent 
prayer  might  be  heard  in  almost  every  tent  for  an 
entire  extinction  of  sin  in  the  heart.  I  think  in  all 
the  camp-meetings  I  ever  attended,  I  never  witnessed 
so  much  wrestling  for  this  great  blessing  as  there 
was  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  this  meeting. 
At  its  close  there  was  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  generally 
among  the  aged  disciples,  who  testified  that  the 
Lord  had  heard  and  answered  their  prayers.  On 
the  second  morning  of  the  meeting,  I  think,  there 
was  a  prayer-meeting  in  one  of  the  tents,  at  the 
close  of  which  Brother  Gorham  (whom  to  know  is 
to  love,  both  as  a  brother  and  a  preacher)  arose  and 
told  us  how  many  years  he  laboured  as  a  preacher 
without  this  diploma  of  perfect  love.  He  also  told 
us  how  he  sought  and  found  it  to  the  joy  of  his  soul, 
and  how  long  he  remained  in  the  happy  possession 
of  it.  But,  alas !  he  said,  and  with  a  deep  sigh,  he 
was  compelled  to  tell  his  bretliren  he  had  lost  it  by 
not  watching  and  praying.  And  he  said  he  came 
there  more  in  the  character  of  a  mourner  than  as  a 


230 


IRIALS  AND  TKIUMI'ILS  IN  THE 


preacher,  and,  with  a  sorrowful  heart,  he  begged  the 
piviyers  of  his  brethren,  that  God  in  his  mercy  would 
restore  unto  him  the  pearl  of  great  price.  He  was 
like  the  woman  spoken  of  by  our  Saviour  that  had 
lost  the  piece  of  silver ;  he  was  sweeping  his  house 
diligently  to  find  it ;  and,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  ho  called  his  neighbours  together  at  five 
o'clock  on  the  third  or  fourth  morning  of  the  meet- 
ing to  rejoice  with  him,  because  he  had  found  what 
he  had  lost.  When  a  goodly  number  of  Israel  were 
seated  around  the  stand,  their  minds  calm  as  a  May 
morning,  and  free  from  excitement,  Brother  Gorham, 
being  appointed  to  preach,  arose  on  the  stand,  and 
pointed  out  how  and  when  he  recovered  the  blessing 
of  perfect  love.  He  also  pointed  out  the  dangei-s 
that  stand  thick  around  to  deprive  us  of  this  jewel. 
He  related  his  experience  so  plain,  that  a  wayfaring 
man,  though  a  fool,  need  not  err  in  understanding 
the  way.  He  also  contrasted  justification  and  sanc- 
tification  ;  and  who  is  better  able  to  set  forth  such 
truth  than  he  who  has  experienced  both  degrees  of 
grace  in  his  heart  ?  and  who  is  more  unqualified  to 
judge  of  such  things  than  those  who  have  never 
experienced  them  ?  Let  us  first  remove  the  beam 
from  our  own  eye,  before  mounting  the  judgment- 
seat.  While  sitting  under  the  droppings  of  his 
words,  which  fell  like  honey  on  my  soul,  all  my 
powers  of  faith  and  hope  were  drawn  out  to  God 
for  this  blessing.  I  was  enabled  to  lay  hold  on  the 
very  horns  of  the  altar  ;  and,  while  sitting  in  silent 


LlfE  OF  U.  W.  HKXKV. 


•231 


in\0(.ation,  I  was  seized  with  a  sudden  trembling 
and  a  slight  spasm,  (as  frequently  occuis  when  I  am 
filled  to  overflowing  with  the  Sjjirit,)  and  my  strength 
was  measurably  taken  away,  like  the  apostle  Paul, 
whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body,  I  knew 
not ;"  and  I  believe,  for  the  fii-st  time  in  my  life,  I 
was  made  insensible  in  my  waking  moments  of 
what  was  passing  around  me.  There  seemed  to  be 
presented  to  me,  while  in  this  state,  literally  an  altar ; 
and  I  thought  I  was  laid  on  it  as  you  would  lay  a 
child  on  its  couch  ;  and  while  lying  in  this  posture, 
1  thought  a  voice  intenogated  me  thus :  "  What  do 
you  want  this  blessing  for?"  I  thought  I  replied, 
"  To  qualify  me  to  preach  the  gospel."  That  mo- 
ment the  Holy  Ghost,  like  the  refiner's  fire,  seemed 
to  j)ass  through  my  soul,  literally  shaking  me  from 
centre  to  circumference,  as  if  the  earthly  tenement 
was  to  be  shaken  to  pieces.  During  the  whole 
process,  down  to  this  last-mentioned  circumstance, 
I  think  I  felt  little  or  no  joy,  but  rather  the  contrary. 
Like  Moses,  I  did  exceedingly  fear  and  quake.  But 
the  moment  after  I  felt  this  terrible  shaking,  the  sun 
of  righteousness  broke  into  niy  soul  with  its  meridian 
brightness  and  glory,  dispelling  every  cloud,  and  all 
darkness  and  doubt.  My  physical  strength  returned, 
and  I  suddenly  rose  on  my  feet,  and  shouted,  "  It  is 
done  !  the  mighty  work  is  wrought."  AVhat  angel 
can  toll  the  happiness  and  heavenly  rapture  T  then 
I'ell  i    "  'T  is  done  !"  I  exclaimed. 

Weil,  tell  us  wliat  was  done,  says  the  reader. 


232  TRIALS  AND  TKILMPHS  IN  THE 


With  tlie  help  of  the  Lord  I  will  proclaim  what 
he  has  done  for  me  ;  not  what  I  liave  done  for  the 
Lord,  for 

"  Nothing  but  sill  had  I  to  give, 
Nothing  but  love  did  I  receive." 

(Jloiy  to  God  in  the  highest!  Glory  to  God  for- 
ever !  What  angel  pen  shall  write  the  joys  of  com- 
plete redemption  ?  The  joy  of  seafaring  men  de- 
livered from  shipwreck — the  joy  of  a  man  delivered 
from  a  burning  house — the  joy  of  a  criminal  ac- 
(piitted  at  the  bar — the  joy  of  a  condemned  male- 
factor in  i-eceiving  pardon — the  joy  of  freedom  to  a 
prisoner  of  war,  is  nothing  to  the  joy  of  him  wlio  is 
delivered  from  going  down  to  the  pit  of  eternal 
destruction,  for  it  is  a  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
glory. 

"  Tlien  lit'aven  comes  down  our  souls  to  greet, 
And  glory  crowns  the  mercy-seat." 

Dear  reader,  when  I  sent  out  the  fii-st  edition 
of  this  work,  I  had  just  received  the  blessing  of 
perfect  love ;  or,  as  we  miderstand  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  entered  into  the  land  of  Beulah ;  or,  in  plain 
terms,  perfect  day.  You  have  already  been  in- 
formed of  my  troubles  while  passing  through  the 
slough  of  despond  before  entering  the  strait  gate. 
You  have  read  of  my  trials  and  triumphs  while 
travelling  through  the  wilderness  in  the  twilight. 
And  now  T  profess,  through  grace,  to  have  been 
set  <l'jwn  in  a  higher  and  holier  state.    There  is  not 


LIKE  OK  li.  W.  IIENKV. 


•233 


any  portion  of  my  first  edition  that  1  am  more 
ashamed  of  than  the  following,  which  is  found  on 
page  '262.  I  make  use  of  the  terms  "deepened" 
and  "  renewed"  work  of  grace,  because  the  Scripture 
terms,  "  perfect  love,"  "  sanctification,"  and  "  holi- 
ness," seem  to  be  "  so  objectionable  to  some."  Had 
I  taken  counsel  of  Him  who  hath  said,  "Whoso- 
ever, therefore,  shall  be  ashamed  of  me  and  of  my 
words  in  this  adulterous  and  sinful  generation,  of 
him  also  shall  the  Son  of  Man  be  ashamed  when 
lie  cometh  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  with  his  holy 
angels,  instead  of  looking  on  the  muddy  page  of 
human  production,  I  should  have  borrowed  the 
jilain  Scriptural  terms,  ^\hen  I  spoke  of  the  great 
blessing  I  had  received.  May  God  have  mercy  on 
me,  and  forgive  me  for  dodging  the  truth  to  ac- 
commodate the  velvet  ears  of  the  world  and  half- 
hearted professoi-s.  I  will  never  do  it  again,  in 
writing  or  preaching,  so  help  me  God.  I  received 
a  righteous  rebuke  in  a  letter  from  sister  Palmer, 
soon  after  the  volume  was  out.  While  she  and  the 
now  immortal  Dr.  Olin  read  together  "  The  Blind 
Man's  Book,"  she  pointed  out  the  weakness  and 
cowardice  of  those  particular  expressions ;  at  the 
sjme  time  both  joined  in  flattering  commendations 
of  my  interesting  little  book. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  commandment,  or  phraseology 
of  Scripture,  that  puzzles  the  brain,  or  staggers  the 
faiti  of  Christians  more  than  the  one  found  in  the 
sixt^  chapter  of  Hebrews :  "  Let  us,  therefore,  go  on 


\ 


2'.H  IKIALS  AND  TlilLMPHS  IN  THE 


unto  perfection."  Now,  as  we  do  not  intend  this 
little  volume  as  a  theological  cssa)',  gathered  up 
from  distant  fields,  but  simply  as  a  record  of  that 
which  we  do  know,  by  our  own  blessed  experience, 
so  then  to  the  word  and  the  testimony. 

The  modern  proverb,  "See  first  that  you  are 
right,  and  then  go  ahead,"  is  certainly  a  safe  princi- 
ple for  every  action  in  human  life.  Therefore,  we 
would  lay  the  foundation  of  this  little  building  upon 
tlie  living  stones  of  the  gospel,  Jesus  Christ  being 
the  head  of  the  corner. 

Dear  reader,  are  you  weary  in  travelling  with  me 
thus  far  3  If  so,  gird  up  your  loins,  and  buckle  on 
your  sandals,  for  wc  are  now  coming  into  the  ffold 
reyions. 

You  have  travelled  with  me  from  my  youth. 
You  have  seen  me  scattering  wild  oats  over  the 
broad  fields  of  hilarity  and  mirth,  and  few  perhaps 
have  reaped  a  more  abundant  crop  of  sinful  pleas- 
ures. All  has  been  vanity  !  vanity  !  You  have 
followed  me  through  the  labyrinth  of  worldly  busi- 
ness, and  seen  me,  for  more  than  twenty  years 
through  storms  and  sunshine,  striving  for  the  goll 
that  perislieth.  You  have  seen  me  raise  up  vilU- 
gcs,  and  go  off  by  the  light  of  them.  You  have 
seen  me  pulling  down  mountains,  and  raising  up 
valleys.  Almost  every  succeeding  year  you  hive 
found  me  just  ready  to  lay  my  hand  upon  the  Icng- 
sought  trcasvu-e.  You  have  as  often  seoi  fi'klo 
fortune  snatch  it  fiom  my  grasp,  and  leave  uie  a|ain 


LIFE  OF  U.  \V.  IIENUI. 


worse  than  a  beggar  at  the  foot  of  the  liill.  You 
liave  seen  death  come  in  like  a  ravenous  wolf,  and 
tiike  nay  lambs  one  by  one,  and  lay  them  in  the 
dark  grave.  You  have  seen  poverty  come  as  an 
armed  man,  and  rob  me  of  all  earthly  possessions. 
Quickly  following  in  his  train,  you  have  seen  total 
blindness  come  and  drop  his  sable  curtain,  shutting 
out  forever  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  with  all  their 
radiant  glory,  earth  with  her  green  carpet,  and, 
worse  still,  forbidding  me  ever  again  to  look  upon 
my  dear  wife  and  children.  Thus  you  found  me 
ill  1841  on  the  hills  of  old  Virginia,  like  an  old 
hoi-se  that  had  become  worn  out  and  blind  in  the 
service  of  a  hard  and  unmerciful  master,  turned 
adrift  to  graze  a  few  days  in  the  corners  of  the 
fences,  to  starve  and  die. 

My  dear  reader,  I  do  not  ask  you  to  pause  here 
and  drop  a  sympathizing  tear ;  no,  I  ask  you  to 
rejoice  with  me.  Do  not  call  death,  poverty,  and 
blindness  enemies,  for  I  certainly  number  them 
among  my  dearest  friends.  They  were  not  my  Sa^'- 
iour,  it  is  true;  but  they  were  sent  by  a  kind 
Father  to  lead  me  to  my  Saviour,  and  to  perpetual 
peace  and  joys  immortal. 

But,  says  the  reader,  how  can  these  things  be  ? 
1  will  tell  you. 

When  death  came  and  took  our  little  idol  Fanny, 
with  scarcely  a  moment's  warning,  and  left  our 
hearts  bleeding,  I  knew  she  had  gone  to  heaven ; 
and,  like  the  men  of  Galilee,  I  began  to  turn  my 


236  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


eyes  away  from  earth  and  gaze  up  into  heaven. 
This  was  a  great  work,  wrought  to  get  a  sinner  to 
turn  his  eyes  from  earth  and  look  upward  ;  and  God 
well  knew  that  death  was  the  only  messenger  that 
could  accomplish  this  thing.  O,  how  thankful 
should  I  be,  that  he  selected  one  of  the  family  that 
was  fully  prepared  for  glory,  and  gave  the  wicked 
father  and  mother  space  to  repent  and  prepare  to 
follow  the  dear  child  to  the  realms  of  bliss !  O  re- 
member, reader,  that  he  who  lets  such  an  affliction 
pass  without  profit,  loses  a  gi-eater  blessing  than 
earth  can  afford ! 

My  second  fi-iend  came  in  the  form  of  another 
fell  disaster,  that,  like  one  of  Job's  heralds,  trod  close 
upon  the  heels  of  the  fii-st.  My  earthly  possessions 
took  to  themselves  wings  and  flew  away. 

The  men  of  this  world  are  like  the  vine,  which,  hav- 
ing loosed  its  fastenings  frojn  the  branches  of  the 
lofty  oak,  and  fallen  sprawling  upon  the  earth,  fastens 
its  hundred  tendrils  around  every  filthy  weed  and 
briar  with  which  it  comes  in  contact.  O,  if  I  have 
tears  to  weep  for  one  more  than  another,  it  is  for  the 
rich  of  this  world,  who  have  no  Christ  in  their  souls, 
and  know  not  that  they  are  poor  and  wretched, 
miserable,  blind,  and  naked !  How  many  times  have 
I  heard  paupers,  in  the  various  county  poor-houses, 
thank  God  for  poverty,  while  ray  soul  responded  a 
hearty  amen !  For  God  hath  said,  he  hath  chosen 
the  poor  of  this  world,  rich  in  faitli,  to  be  heire  of 
the  kingdom  which  he  hath  promised  to  them  that 


LIKE  OF  c;.  VV.  IIEXRV. 


237 


love  him.  Mark  the  last  sentence.  It  is  to  the 
class  of  poor  that  love  him.  My  third  friend  is 
Llindness ;  and  God  knows,  if  I  ever  offered  hina  one 
sacrifice  of  praise,  honest  and  pure,  deep  and  fervent, 
it  is  for  this,  which  my  fi-iends  all  look  upon  as  an 
affliction. 

This  certainly,  to  nie,  is  one  of  the  mysteries  and 
wonders  of  redeeming  grace  that  one  of  my  stirring 
ambition  should  never  have  the  least  desire  to  see. 
And  God  knows  my  heart,  that  if  sight  was  proftcred 
to  me  this  day,  I  should  receive  it  with  a  trembling 
hand.  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  to  endure,  as  seeing 
Him  who  is  innsible.  I  have  said  that  I  never  de- 
sired to  see:  there  have  been  a  few  exceptions. 
When  I  have  sat  under  a  powerful  sermon,  where 
the  veil  of  the  future  has  been  drawn  and  the  awful 
destiny  that  awaits  the  incorrigible  sinner  and  the 
infinite  glory  of  the  righteous  portrayed,  I  have 
wished  that  I  could  have  one  beam  of  sunlight  that 
would  direct  me  to  some  trembling  sinner,  with  the 
tear  of  repentance  on  his  cheek.  I  would  take  him 
by  the  hand  and  lead  him  to  Jesus,  who  would  say 
to  his  troubled  soul,  as  he  did  to  the  Sea  of  Tiberias, 
"Be  still;"  and  in  the  channel  of  those  penitent 
teai-s  send  fortli  the  rivers  of  love  and  heavenly 

joy- 

0,  how  often  have  1  returned  from  an  evening  of 
social  prayer,  when  I  could  wring  from  my  pocket- 
handkerchief  teai-s,  like  phials  of  dew-drops  fallen 
from  the  rose  of  Sharon !    But  they  are  all  bottled 


238  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

1)}'  Him  wlio  numbers  the  liairs  of  my  head.  Halle- 
hijah  to  God  and  the  Lamb  forever !  I  do  not  wisli 
to  be  understood,  in  what  I  have  said,  as  undervalu- 
ing earthly  blessings ;  but,  to  me,  the  loss  of  my  pro- 
2>erty  was  like  losing  a  sixpence  and  finding  a  guinea. 
The  losing  of  my  children  resulted  in  the  finding 
of  Christ.  The  loss  of  my  natural  sight  was  like 
blowing  out  a  candle  and  letting  the  sunlight  of 
glory  blaze  perpetually  in  my  soul.  So  much  for 
my  three  friends. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

Dear  reader,  you  have  looked  upon  your  autlior 
as  the  world  generally  does  look  upon  the  poor  and 
the  blind,  and  have  said,  perhaps,  Avithout  looking 
into  the  future,  it  would  be  well  for  hira  if  death 
would  come  and  sign  his  release.  But  Christ  saw 
in  this  shattered  house  of  clay,  with  every  Avindow- 
light  broken  in,  an  immortal  gem,  of  more  value 
than  all  earth's  treasure ;  and  he  came  to  me  in  the 
voice  of  mercy,  and  told  me,  if  I  would  take  up  my 
cross  and  follow  him,  I  should  be  made  a  king  and 
priest  and  reign  with  him  forever.  He  told  me  that 
his  house  should  be  my  home,  his  fulness  my  treas- 
ure; that  I  might  make  as  free  in  all  his  store- 
houses of  grace  as  in  my  own  cupboard ;  and  that 
his  omnipresence  should  ever  he.  my  guide.  O 


LIFE  OF  (;.  W.  IlENRV. 


239 


wliat  an  inducomont  is  hoKl  out  for  a  lost  siniior  to 
come  to  Christ ! 

But  I  am  delaying  too  much,  and  must  hasten 
on  my  journey.  If  you  recollect,  we  have  travelled 
over  the  ground  this  morning  from  our  youth  up  to 
1841,  the  time  when  Jesus  Christ  took  me  prisoner. 
O  glorious  captivity  !  There  are  five  particular  cir- 
cumstances which  occurred  in  the  course  of  my  ten 
yeai-s'  travel  that  I  wish  to  notice,  and,  like  Jacob  of 
old,  raise  up  a  stone  and  pour  on  the  oil ;  for  verily, 
tlioy  have  been  as  the  gates  of  heaven  to  my  soul. 
The  first  was  the  death  of  my  little  Fanny.  The 
second  was  my  covenant  with  God,  at  the  Virginia 
hotel,  to  seek  his  face  or  die.  This  was  about  six 
months  after  Fanny  went  to  heaven.  The  third 
event  took  place  about  five  months  after,  when  Jesus 
drowned  all  my  sins  in  tlie  depths  of  his  fathomless 
mercy.  The  fourth  was  a  connction  of  my  need  of 
holiness,  about  two  yeai-s  after  my  convei-sion.  The 
fifth,  which  was  about  one  year  after,  was  a  full  and 
complete  salvation  from  all  sin.  And  now  I  entered 
into  the  land  of  Beulah,  where  the  sun  or  the  moon 
never  go  down  upon  the  soul.  So  here  we  find  our- 
selves happy  in  the  Lord,  a  place  of  broad  rivei-s 
and  streams.  It  was  on  the  8th  of  September, 
184.5,  that  I  obtained  a  clean  heart  and  received  the 
white  stone  mth  the  new  name,  which  no  man 
knoweth  save  he  that  receiveth  it. 

As  the  noble  Hudson  swallows  up  the  Mohawk 
at  its  junction  and  liears  it  onward  to  the  ocean, 


240 


TKIALS  AND  TriU  Ml'IlS  IN"  TIIK 


('\'en  so  supreme  love  to  God  and  man  takes  in  justi- 
fication, with  all  its  buds  and  blossoms,  and  bears  it 
on  its  bosom  to  the  unbounded  ocean  of  eternal 
felicity.  This  we  term  the  land  of  Beulah.  Pre- 
vious to  my  arrival  in  this  happy  land  I  had  been 
through  the  wicket-gate,  the  dark  valley,  vanity  fair, 
and  the  enchanted  ground,  after  which  comes  the 
land  of  Beulah.  As  Bunyan  has  beautifully  de- 
scribed it :  "  In  this  country  the  sun  shineth  night 
and  day  ;  wherefore  this  was  beyond  the  vale  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  and  also  out  of  the  reach  of  Giant 
Desjmir ;  neither  could  they  from  this  place  so  mucli 
as  see  Doubting  Castle.  Here  they  were  within 
sight  of  the  city  they  were  going  to ;  also  here  met 
them  some  of  the  inhabitants  thereof;  for  in  this 
land  the  shining  ones  commonly  walked,  because  it 
was  upon  the  borders  of  heaven.  In  this  land  also 
the  contract  between  the  bride  and  the  bridegroom 
was  renewed  ;  yea,  hero  '  as  the  bridegroom  rejoiceth 
over  the  bride,  so  doth  their  God  rejoice  over  them.' 
Here  they  had  no  want  of  corn  and  wine ;  for  in 
this  place  they  met  with  abundance  of  what  they 
had  sought  for  in  all  their  pilgrimage.  Here  they 
lieard  voices  from  out  the  city,  loud  voices,  saying, 
'  Say  ye  to  the  daughter  of  Zion,  Behold,  thy  Salva- 
tion Cometh !  Behold,  his  reward  is  with  him  !' 
Here  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  called  them 
'  the  holy  peojjle,  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord.'  Now, 
as  they  walked  in  this  land,  they  had  more  rejoicing 
than  in  parts  more  remote  frojn  the  kingdom  to 


UFE  OF  O.  W.  HEXKY. 


•241 


wliicli  they  were  bound,  and  drawing  near  to  tlie 
city  they  had  yet  a  more  peifect  view  thereof.  It 
was  builded  of  pearls  and  precious  stones,  also  tiie 
streets  thereof  were  paved  with  gold ;  so  that,  by 
reason  of  the  natural  glory  of  the  city  and  the  re- 
rtection  of  the  sunbeams  upon  it,  Christian  with  de- 
sire fell  sick.  Hopeful  also  had  a  fit  or  two  of  the 
same  disease ;  wherefore  here  they  lay  by  awhile, 
crying  out  because  of  their  pangs,  '  If  you  see  my 
l>elovcd,  tell  him  that  I  am  sick  of  love.' 

"  But,  being  a  little  strengthened,  and  better  able 
to  bear  their  sickness,  they  walked  on  their  way,  and 
came  yet  nearer  and  nearer,  where  were  orchards, 
vineyards,  and  gardens ;  and  their  gates  opened  into 
the  highway.  Now,  as  they  came  up  to  these  places, 
behold,  the  gardener  stood  in  the  way,  to  whom  the 
pilgrims  said,  AVhose  goodly  vineyards  and  gardens 
are  these  ?  He  answered.  They  are  the  king's,  and 
are  planted  here  for  his  own  delight,  and  also  for 
the  solace  of  pilgrims.  So  the  gardener  had  them 
into  the  vineyards,  and  bid  them  refiesh  themselves 
with  the  dainties.  He  also  showed  them  there  the 
king's  walks  and  arboui-s,  where  he  delighted  to 
be;  and  here  they  tarried  and  slept." — Pilgrini's 
Progress. 

John  Bunyan  and  many  othere  travelled  in  this 
land  many  yeai-s,  this  side  of  Jordan ;  and  shall 
Chiistians,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  walk  in  twi- 
light, when  they  may  be  overshadowed  with  a  bright 
cloud  on  Mount  Tabor,  and  hear  a  voice  (not  audi- 
Ki 


riUALy  AKD  TlUU-MPHa  IN  TllK 


l)lc  to  any  other  ear)  but  gently  wliis])ering-  within, 
aclcuowjedging  us  as  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Al- 
niiglity 

This  is  an  honour  and  glory  that  the  unre- 
generate  man  is  a  stranger  to ;  but  let  us  return  to 
our  encampment. 

The  meeting  closed  on  Saturday  morning  in  a 
blaze  of  glory.  I  had  thouglit  it  a  happy  morning 
on  the  10th  of  August,  1842,  when  I  found  God's 
pardoning  love ;  but  O,  who  shall  describe  the  pure, 
the  holy  joy  of  full  salvation  from  all  sin  I  You 
will  not  wonder  that  this  was  a  happy  meeting  to 
my  soul.  Previous  to  it  I  had  been  like  Lazarus, 
when  brought  from  death  to  life.  When  Jesus 
came  forth  from  the  tomb,  he  left  his  gi-ave-clothes 
behind  hiu) ;  but  wlien  Lazarus  was  raised  from  the 
dead,  he  stood  by  a  sepulclire,  wrapped  about  with 
his  winding-sheet,  and  a  napkin  over  his  eyes. 
.Icsus  wanted  him  as  a  witness,  to  sliow  to  the  un- 
Itelieving  Jews  his  power  ovei'  deatli.  Therefore, 
Jesus  spake  the  second  time,  "Loose  him,  and  let 
him  go."  This  relieved  him  of  his  grave-clothes, 
and  gave  him  pejfect  sight  and  liberty.  He  whom 
Christ  makes  free,  is  free  indeed.  Even  so  was  I 
bi  ought  out  of  my  grave  of  sin,  bringing  with  me 
many  of  my  grave-clothes,  or  prejudices,  even 
against  th(3  doctrine  of  holiness;  and  until  Christ 
spake  the  second  time,  I  wiis  not  made  free.  I  was 
like  the  blind  man  that  Jesus  took  by  the  hand, 
and  after  leading  him  out  of  the  multitude,  touched 


LIFE  Of  Ci.  \V.  UENKV. 


243 


his  eyos,  aud  told  him  to  look.  He  answered  tliat 
lie  '•  beheld  men  as  trees  walking ;"  that  is,  he  saw 
but  very  imperfectly.  I  remember  that  when  my 
sight  was  failing,  there  was  a  time  when  I  coukl 
hardly  tell  a  man  from  a  stump,  or  a  hoi-se  from  a 
cow.  I  presume  it  was  something  so  with  the 
jiatient  which  Jesus  had  under  his  care.  "After 
liiat  he  jiut  his  hands  again  upon  his  eyes,  and 
made  him  look  up ;  and  he  was  restored,  and  saw 
every  man  clearly."  Here  he  entei-s  into  the  land 
of  Beulah.  O  Lord,  give  all  thy  people  a  finishing 
touch,  that  they  may  see  their  way  clearly  into  the 
promised  laud ! 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TiiE  first  Sabbath  morning  after  camp-meeting, 
feeling  the  word  of  God,  like  fire,  shut  up  in  my 
bones,  I  concluded  to  go  and  see  a  brother  who  had 
not  been  to  camp-meeting,  and  who,  like  myself, 
had  been  hobbling  along,  sometimes  in  the  light 
and  sometimes  in  darkness.  I  found  him  in  his 
shop,  looking  like  the  image  of  despair  sitting  upon 
a  gravestone.  He  said :  "  Brother  Henrj-,  I  have 
concluded  to  give  up  trying  to  serve  the  Lord,  for 
the  present  at  least.  My  wife  is  so  peculiar  in  her 
disposition,  and  her  temper  is  such,  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  keep  up  the  family  altar."    I  told  him  I 


'244  JKIALS  AND  TIUL'MPHS  IN  THE 

should  like  to  see  his  wife.  He  replied  that  it 
would  be  of  no  use ;  but  I  importuned,  and  at  last 
made  my  way  into  her  room — something  I  never 
would  have  dared  to  do  before,  knowing  the  parties 
as  well  as  I  tlid.  After  I  entered  the  room  we  liad 
a  terrible  storm.  O  how  Satan  did  rage  1  but  with 
new-found  strength  and  boldness,  I  began  to  tell 
them  what  the  Lord  had  done  for  my  soul,  and 
what  he  could  do  for  them ;  and  in  a  very  short 
time  we  had  the  devil  turned  out  of  doors,  and  we 
all  knelt  down  before  the  mercy-seat ;  and  many 
times  since  has  my  good  brother  referred  to  that 
happy  morning,  when,  like  sinking  Peter,  he  was 
pulled  up  out  of  the  deep,  and  placed  again,  happy 
and  rejoicing,  in  the  old  ship.  Here  we  discover 
the  melting  power  of  God  attending  his  word; 
bending  at  once  the  rebellious  knee,  and  changing 
bitter  epithets  and  sarcasm  into  accents  of  love  and 
praise. 

You  may  think,  reader,  that  this  is  a  small  affair 
to  relate ;  but  I  can  tell  you  that  it  takes  more  moral 
courage  to  go  into  a  cage  where  a  man  and  his  wife 
are  quarrelling,  and  seek  to  quell  their  wrath,  than 
to  take  a  torch,  as  old  Putnam  did,  and  creep  into 
the  den  of  the  wolf.  Putnam  would  hardly  have 
ventured  without  his  torch.  Just  so,  we  find  our 
courage  in  the  foot  that  our  hearts  are  burning,  like 
a  torch,  with  love  to  God  and  our  fellow-creatures. 
Here  is  use  for  a  holy  heart ;  here  is  the  test  of  that 
"  i>erfect  love  that  casts  out  fear."    You  will  remem- 


LIFE  OF  (:.  \X.  HEXIiV. 


245 


hor  when  I  lay  in  the  cruciblo,  whoro  God  was 
pleased  to  consume  all  my  sins,  that  an  invisible 
something  asked,  "  What  do  you  want  this  blessing 
for  ?"  You  know,  I  replied  :  •'  that  I  may  be  bet- 
ter qualified  to  preach  the  gospel."  I  wanted  to 
be  able  fearlessly  to  preacli  Jesus  and  his  match- 
less love.  And,  dear  reader,  if  you  are  seeking  this 
blessing,  let  me  ask.  Is  your  motive  pure  ?  or  do  you 
seek  to  consume  it  upon  your  lusts?  We  may 
burn  incense,  and  snufi'  up  all  the  odours  oui-selves. 
With  such  sacrifice  God  is  not  well  pleased.  It  is 
the  honesty  of  motive  that  will  bear  your  soul  on 
the  palanquin  of  faith,  speedily  and  wonderfully, 
and,  while  you  are  yet  aspiring,  lay  you  in  tlie  bo- 
som of  your  God.  My  soul  says,  while  writing  tliis 
sentiment,  "Amen  !  Hallelujah  1" 

I  verily  believe,  in  taking  a  review  of  my  own  ex- 
perience, that  more  than  half  my  struggles,  in  seek- 
ing both  justification  and  sanctification,  have  been 
for  the  loaves  and  fishes — the  comfort  and  satisfac- 
tion of  being  freed  from  sin.  It  is  true  that  Go<l, 
in  his  promises,  holds  up  the  joys  of  liis  salvation 
as  an  inducement  to  seek  his  favour.  But  whoever 
seeks  pardon  or  perfect  love  for  its  joys  alone,  may 
toil,  like  Baal's  worshippers,  from  morning  until 
noon,  and  from  noon  until  the  offering  of  the  even- 
ing sacrifice,  and  with  a  like  success.  Seek  purity 
with  a  single  eye,  and  joy  will  as  surely  follow  in 
its  wake  as  light  follows  in  the  track  of  tlie  sun. 
I  am  the  more  explicit,  because  so  many  have 


•246  IRIALft  AND   TliirMI'H.S  IN  THE 

stumbled  here.  When  you  are  brouglit  to  see 
\-our  own  impurity,  compared  with  the  charaetei 
of  the  God  you  love ;  when  you  see  how  your 
very  thoughts  are  mixed  with  worldliness,  pride,  and 
selfishness,  and,  as  you  struggle  to  get  free  fi-om 
what  you  begin  to  loathe,  discover  that  you  have 
no  power  to  regenerate  your  nature,  that  there  is  in 
you  no  good  thing,  how  you  will  groan,  "  O  who 
shall  deliver  me  from  this  dead  body  ?"  And  then 
comes  the  looking  to  Jesus,  and  the  eye  grows  rav- 
ished with  the  perfection  of  his  loveliness,  his  in- 
finite condescension,  his  amazing  mercy,  his  perfect 
purity  ;  and  O,  how  the  soul  longs  to  be  like  him ! 
J  low  it  begs  and  prays  to  be  made  a  fit  temple  for 
the  Holy  Ghost  to  dwell  in  !  Do  you  think  of  joy 
in  that  hour?  Is  it  not  joy  to  be  like  Christ,  the 
adorable,  the  blessed  Saviour?  Is  not  that  joy 
enough  ? 

Well,  you  remember  I  promised  to  preach  the 
gospel  in  Frankfort.  I  had  an  opportunity  the  first 
Sabbath  after  my  return  from  camp-meeting.  God 
has  promised  to  make  his  ministers  a  flame  of  fire. 
I  always  spread  out  the  writing  before  him  when  in 
court,  and  I  will  say  to  the  glory  of  his  grace,  from 
that  Sabl)ath  to  this,  which  is  about  six  years,  I 
have  endeavoured  to  preach  once,  twice,  or  thrice 
every  Sabbath,  with  a  very  few  exceptions,  and  he 
has  always  answered  by  fire.  O  how  good,  how 
i-ich,  how  glorious  is  the  promise  left  on  record  by 
Jesus :  "  In  that  day  ye  shall  know  that  I  am  in 


l.IFK  OF  c;.  \V.  IIEXHV 


•247 


tho  Father,  aiul  you  in  me,  and  I  in  j  ou."  Her<>  is 
our  coat  of  mail,  and  it  is  bullet-proof.  It  is  ssiitl 
that  Napoleon  once  contracted  with  an  artist  to 
furnish  him  a  coat  of  mail,  for  which  he  was  to  pay 
nine  hundred  ducats.  In  due  time  the  artist  came, 
and  laid  it  before  the  emperor.  Napoleon  inquired 
if  he  was  sure  it  was  impervious  to  a  bullet  ?  The 
artist  answered  at  once  in  the  affiiinative.  "Then," 
said  Napoleon,  "  put  it  on  yourself,  sir,  and  stand 
out  a  few  paces."  The  order  was  quickly  obeyetl. 
The  emperor  drew  his  pistols  and  fired  several 
bullets  at  him,  but  they  fell  liannless  at  his  feet. 
The  erajwror  took  the  armour,  ami  gave  the 
artist  eighteen  hundred  ducats.  Our  armour  has 
l>ecn  proved ;  it  has  been  able  to  stand  the  unitetl 
assaults  of  three  great  princes,  tlie  AVorld,  the  Flesh, 
and  the  Devil ;  and  whoever  puts  it  on  must  exp<?ct 
an  assault  from  these  enemies  of  all  righteousness, 
and,  alas !  from  some  m  the  Church  too. 

It  was  the  chief  priests  that  consulte<l  to  put 
Lazarus  to  death,  "because  that  by  reason  of  him 
many  of  the  Jews  went  away,  and  beheved  on 
Jesus."  The  sum  and  substance  of  the  devil's  busi- 
ness upon  earth  is  to  destroy  witnesses,  to  put  out 
the  hght ;  and  the  gi-eater  the  light,  the  greater  his 
anxiety  to  have  it  extinguished.  Why,  at  the  time 
of  the  Revolutionary  War,  the  British  would  have 
given  more  for  the  head  of  Washington  than  for 
half  a  regiment  of  common  soldiers.  And  never 
think  that  Satan  is  not  as  cunning  as  the  British. 


■J 4 8  riUAi..s  AM)  Hill  MiMis  in  tiik 

He  would  like  well,  ii"  lie  eoiiKl,  to  spike  the  cannon, 
or  stop  the  mouth  of  one  of  God's  sanctified  invin- 
cibles.  Whoever,  therefore,  puts  on  this  armour, 
must  expect  to  be  made  a  target  for  all  liell  to  fire 
;it.  When  I  class  myself  among  Gotl's  witnesses,  I 
feel  like  curling  down  at  the  feet  of  ray  brethren  as 
less  than  the  least  of  all  saints.  There  is  a  piece  of 
ordnance  used  in  the  armies  of  this  world's  warfare, 
called  a  blunderbuss,  which  is  discharged  without 
taking  any  direct  aim  ;  it  very  oft«n  hits  those  who 
are  least  expecting  it.  So  with  my  preaching :  I 
generally  fire  at  random,  not  caring  who  is  hit; 
many  times  receiving  a  text  from  the  Lord  while 
reading  the  hymn  or  chapter,  or  while  upon  my 
knees  at  prayer.  1  have  often  had  more  liberty  in 
))reaching  from  such  texts,  than  from  those  pro- 
meditated. 

I  believe  it  is  somewhere  written  in  the  good 
book,  "Open  thy  mouth  wide,  and  I  will  fill  it." 
About  the  last  advice  Paul  gives  to  Timothy  was, 
to  bring  along  with  him  the  cloak  that  he  left  at 
Troas,  and  the  books,  but  especially  the  parchments. 
This  especially  means,  if  you  forget  cloaks,  books, 
and  everything  else,  do  not  by  any  means  forget  the 
'parchments.  These  seem  to  be  all  important  and  indis- 
pensable. Just  so  with  the  qualifications  necessary  to 
be  a  useful  minister  of  the  gospel.  If  we  can  bring 
along  the  cloak  of  education,  together  with  books  or 
much  useful  literature,  and  have  all  fully  consecrated 
to  God,  it  is  well ;  but  whether  you  bring  into  the 


LIFE  OF  (i.  W.  HENRY. 


249 


field  a  college  diploma  or  not,  I  beseech  you,  for 
your  own  soul's  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  those  that 
hear  you,  do  not  leave  behind  you  the  parchment 
of  pei-fect  love.  A  general  may  load  his  cannon, 
and  direct  it  with  mathematical  skill  against  his 
enemies ;  but  one  element  is  always  indispensable, 
or  be  will  never  start  the  mortar  on  the  enemies' 
fortress — he  must  touch  fire  to  it.  Even  so  the 
minister  may  have  a  sermon  correctly  and  beau- 
tifully arranged  in  all  its  parts ;  but  if  he  is  desti- 
tute of  the  perfect  love  of  God  in  his  heart,  he  will 
need  Old  Sammy  Hicks's  prayer  before  he  can  rout 
the  enemy  :  "  Clap  fire  to  him,  Lord  !" 


CHATTER  XIX. 

In  this  chapter  we  are  to  speak  of  one  that  you 
have  been  introduced  to  in  the  foregoing  chapters 
as  my  wife — one  that  forms  part  of  myself.  No 
figure  used  in  the  Bible  so  beautifully  illustrates 
the  union  of  the  soul  with  Christ,  as  that  of  the 
marriage  tie.  The  true  Church  is  called  the 
Lamb's  wife.  In  the  marriage  covenant,  whether 
temporal  or  spiritual,  three  things  are  mutually 
promised  by  the  parties.  The  bridegroom  promises  to 
love,  cherish,  and  protect.  So  does  Christ  his  Church. 
The  bride  pledges  herself  to  love,  servo,  and  obey 


250  TRIALS  AND  TKIIMPIIS  IN  THK 

ihc  liusbaml  of  her  choice.  So  also  every  soul  that 
would  share  in  the  heavenly  inheritance  must  for- 
sake all  othei-s  and  cleave  unto  God,  with  full  pur- 
pose of  heart,  to  love,  serve,  and  obey  implicitly  the 
heavenly  bridegroom.  O  happy  union  !  "  For  I 
am  jiersuaded  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  an- 
gels, nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  pres- 
ent, nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor 
any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  fi-om 
the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 

Earthly  unions  may  be  dissolved,  the  ties  of 
fi-iendship  broken,  and  love<l  companions  borne  into 
distant  lands ;  but  "  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  Christ?" 

Our  God  is  not  a  God  afar  off.  He  is  not  asleep, 
or  on  a  journey,  when  we  need  his  counsel  or  his 
aid.  He  has  said  his  salvation  is  nigh  them  that 
fear  him.  His  presence  can  lighten  the  darkest 
dungeon,  and  penetrate  the  stoutest  pi-ison  walls. 
O  my  soul,  art  thou  not  rich  ?  Hast  thoii  not 
married  well  ?  What  would  you  think,  reader,  if 
the  only  son  and  heir  of  an  earthly  prince,  in  seek- 
ing a  bride,  should  pass  by  the  proud  and  gay  of 
earth  and  come  into  a  poor  house  and  woo  the 
hand  and  heart  of  one  cast  out  and  forsaken  by  the 
world,  poor,  blind,  and  lame,  in  her  rags  and  wretch- 
edness ?  Would  you  not  gaze  and  wonder  at  such 
condescension  ?  How  much  more,  then,  should  we 
wonder  at  the  infinite  stoop  of  the  Prince  of  Glory, 
in  choosing  you  and  me,  and  the  wretched  and 


LIFE  OK  i;.  W.  IlENRV. 


•251 


niisovftble  of  earth,  for  the  companions  of  his  bo- 
som. Well  might  St.  Peter  talk  about  "  exceeding 
great  and  precious  promises;"  or  St.  Paul  declare 
that  "Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 
have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him." 
Remember,  these  promises  are  only  to  those  that  love 
him. 

But  to  return  to  my  narrative.  You  remember 
that  I  said,  in  a  former  chapter,  that  the  firet  breath 
of  prayer  I  remember  offering  after  my  soul  was 
brought  from  darkness  into  light  was,  "  O  Lord, 
convert  my  proud  wife  I"  I  fully  believe  that  my 
prayer,  although  short,  entered  into  tlie  ear  of  the 
Almighty,  although  it  was  eleven  months  before 
the  answer  came,  and  she  was  enabled  to  break 
away  from  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  and  enter  with 
joy  and  a  shout  of  triumph  into  the  kingdom  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  My  experience 
was  similar  upon  entering  the  land  of  Beulah.  I 
began  earnestly  to  supplicate  the  Throne  in  her  be- 
half. Do  not  think,  dear  reader,  that  during  the 
two  or  three  years  from  the  date  of  our  conversion 
we  were  not  owned  and  blessed  of  God.  Many  a 
time  was  I  slain  by  the  power  of  God  while  in  a 
justified  state.  But  we  were  both  so'metliing  like 
a  bottle  of  water  with  a  little  sediment  in  the  bot- 
tom. If  handled  roughly,  the  water  will  sliow  im- 
purities that  might  not  appear  under  more  careful 
treatment;  while  one  filled  only  with  pure  water 


252  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IX  THE 


would  remain  so  uiicler  the  greatest  agitations.  Old 
Adam  would  occasionally  rouse  up  within.  It  is  bad 
enough  to  have  the  old  fellow  outside  of  the  house, 
but  horrible  to  have  him  within  and  without.  For 
about  four  weeks  after  our  return  from  the  camp- 
meeting,  we  united  our  prayers  together  as  joint 
heirs  of  the  grace  of  life  for  the  blessing  of  perfect 
love.  Let  us  always  remember,  when  we  petition  a 
higher  power,  that  a  definite  request  is  followed  by 
a  definite  answer.  Let  us  always,  therefore,  go  to 
God  little-child-like,  and  if  we  want  bread,  let  us 
ask  for  bread ;  or  if  a  fish,  let  us  ask  for  a  fish, 
and  our  Heavenly  Father  will  not  return  us  a  stone 
or  a  scorpion.  We  were  not  now  pleading  for  the 
pardon  of  our  sins,  but  we  were  pleading  in  her 
behalf:  "Create  in  us  a  clean  heart,  O  God,  and 
renew  a  right  spirit  within  us." 
It  has  been  sung — 

"  The  devil  trembles  when  he  sees 
The  weakest  saint  ui)on  his  knees." 

Although  he  is  a  chained  enemy,  his  chain  is 
often  lengthened  to  permit  him  to  try  the  faith  of 
God's  children.    So  it  was  in  our  case. 

A  terrible  storm  arose.  He  had  permission  to 
set  his  dividing  hoof  on  the  domestic  hearth. 
Never  before  did  we  witness  such  soul-tr}'ing  and 
heart-searching  conflicts.  But  when  in  this  agony, 
we  prayed  the  more  fervently.  We  seemed  to  be 
thrown  upon  the  high  seas  witliout  helm  or  com- 


LIKE  Olr  U.  W.  IIE.SKV.  .>o3 

pass,  every  star  of  hope  seemed  to  be  overcast  with 
a  dark  cloud.  I  greatly  feared  tlie  dove  of  reason 
would  leave  the  frail  bark  no  more  to  return.  This 
storm  continued  increasing  about  four  days.  The 
waves  ran  high.  It  was  -with  us  hke  one  lost  on  a 
lonely  mountain,  waiting  for  day. 

When  every  star  goes  out,  it  is  a  sure  sign  that 
day  is  about  to  dawn,  and  a  bright  sun  to  rise.  It 
is  at  such  perilous  times,  when  despair  is  about  set- 
tling its  dark  pall  upon  every  gleam  of  hope,  that 
Jesus  comes  to  us  walking  on  the  water,  saying  to 
the  disconsolate  soul :  "  It  is  I ;  be  not  afraid  !" 
Business  required  me  to  leave  home,  and  I  went 
praying,  fearing,  trembling,  for  the  loved  mourner 
that  I  left  behind. 

On  my  return,  I  entered  the  house  and  inquired  for 
Mrs.  Henry.  I  was  told  that  she  had  gone  to  one  of 
the  neighbours.  I  followed  her ;  and,  O,  how  shall 
I  describe  my  emotions  when  I  beheld  her  sitting 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus  I  It  was  the  very  same  Jesus 
who  had  spoken  peace  to  my  soul,  that  now  filled 
with  unspeakable  joy  the  breast  of  my  dear  wife. 
She  had  an  audience  around  her  melted  into  teai-s 
while  they  listened  to  the  story  of  what  Jesus  had 
done  for  her.  Like  the  two  Marys,  who,  when  they 
heard  that  Christ  had  risen  from  the  dead,  ran  over 
the  hills  of  Palestine  to  tell  tlie  glad  tidings  to  their 
brethren ;  so  did  this  daughter  of  Zion  seem  to 
bound  with  joyous  transport  from  house  to  house, 
warning    and   exhorting    all    with   whom  she 


254  TRIALS  AND  ■IRIL.MPIIS  IN  THE 

met.  This  continued  for  about  four  clays;  and 
whoever  listened  to  her  exhortations,  whether  saint 
or  sinner,  melted  under  their  influence.  I  must 
confess  that  I  was  sometimes  tempted  to  stretch  out 
the  hand  and  steady  the  ark.  The  devil  whispered 
to  me :  "  Decency  and  order !  reputation,  that  dar- 
ling idol,  may  go  overboard." 

But  Jesus,  it  is  said,  made  himself  of  no  reputa- 
tion. O,  that  the  Church  may  be  moi'e  like  him ! 
I  have  described  in  former  pages  the  raptures  of 
God's  pardoning  love;  but  what  angel  pen  shall 
write  the  joys  of  full  salvation  ! 

The  little  boy  that  led  me  had  been  converted  a 
few  days  before,  also  the  little  girl  that  lived  with 
us.  No  mortal  can  describe  our  happiness  as  we 
knelt  around  the  mercy-seat. 

"Then  heaven  came  down  our  souls  to  greet, 
And  glory  crown'd  the  mercy-seat." 

Glory  to  God  forever !  glory  to  Jesus ! 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Religion  was  at  this  time  at  a  low  ebb  in  Frank- 
fort, and  out  of  one  hundred  wells  there  were 
scarcely  ten  to  be  found  with  the  living  water 
■springing  upward.  For  two  or  three  years  there 
was  rarely  ii  door  opened  in  our  village  of  seven 


LlfE  Of  U.  W.  HE.NKV.  255 

liiiialrecl  inliabitiiiits  fur  a  week-night  jniiyer-ineet- 
iug;  and,  aside  from  the  clergy,  we  do  not  kjiow 
of  more  tlian  one  or  two  who  erected  the  family 
ahar. 

But,  thank  God  I  there  were  a  few  Presbyterians, 
Baptists,  and  Methodists,  who  were  sure  to  find 
their  way  to  the  humble  cottage  of  the  blind  man, 
and  they  always  returned  home  as  giants  refreshed 
with  new  wine ;  for  God  always  met  with  us, 

"And  bless'd  with  his  presence  our  lonely  retreat." 

Multitudes  have  gathered  around  our  gate  to  hear 
the  shouts  of  ti-iumph ;  tor  God  hath  promised  to 
turn  our  moiu-ning  into  dancing,  and  fill  our 
mouths  with  laughter. 

So,  reader,  do  not  think  strange  that  God  honoui-s 
his  drafts  or  pays  his  promises ;  but,  as  we  intend 
to  sjieak  on  the  subject  of  holy  triumph  in  some 
future  page,  we  pass  this  theme  for  the  pres- 
ent. 

It  should  be  a  great  consolation  to  the  redeemed 
that  we  are  not  dependent  on  our  neighbours'  wells 
for  water,  neither  do  we  have  to  say.  Give  us  of  your 
oil.  The  lamps  of  a  whole  city  may  be  lit  up  fi-om 
one  candle,  and  from  one  sun  millions  of  stare  bor- 
row their  light. 

Even  so  the  true  children  of  God  fill  their  lamps 
from  the  one  pure  beaten  olive-tree,  and  every  lamp  " 
is  lit  up  by  one  Haming  torch  from  heaven's  great 
luminary.    The  life  of  the  body  is  the  soul ;  faith 


25G  TKIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

is  the  life  of  the  soul ;  and  faith  is  nourished  and 
kept  alive  by  the  promises  of  the  Lord.  These  are 
the  food  for  faith  in  this  life ;  but  in  the  life  to  come, 
faith  lives  eternally  on  performances.  It  is  written, 
"  The  just  shall  live  by  faith."  Let  us  search  the 
records  and  discover  what  God  hath  promised.  O 
my  soul,  remove  thy  veil  of  unbelief.  "  We  have 
heard  his  words ;  what  need  have  we  of  any  further 
witnesses?"  "He  that  hath  eai-s  to  hear,  let  him 
hear  what  the  Spirit  saith  unto  the  Churches."  I 
am  the  author  and  finisher  of  faith.  I  am  the  God 
of  hope,  the  God  of  love,  the  God  of  patience,  the 
God  of  all  grace ;  and  I  will  give  grace  to  you  ac- 
cording to  your  day.  I  will  be  a  well  of  water  within 
you,  springing  up  unto  everlasting  life.  Yea,  I  will 
satisfy  your  soul  in  drought,  and  make  fat  your 
bones ;  and  ye  shall  be  like  a  watered  garden. 
These  and  many  more  great  and  precious  promises 
are  ours. 

O,  my  dear  brother  and  sister  in  the  Lord,  can 
you  ever  again  complain  of  barrenness  and  dry-time, 
as  if  Jehovah's  all-sufficiency  was  not  enough  to 
satisfy  and  keep  your  little  heart  brimful  and  run- 
ning over  with  his  love. 

But,  to  return  to  our  subject.  It  was  in  Frankfort, 
as  in  Sardis  of  old,  that  there  were  some  who  had 
not  defiled  their  garments.  They  were  walking  with 
God.  It  is  a  rare  place  to  look  for  a  rose  at  the 
mouth  of  the  burning  crater.  It  would  seem  almost 
as  strange  to  find  a  Jehoshaphat  in  the  house  of  Ahab, 


Ui'K  Of  G.  W.  UJSNKY. 


257 


or  a  Joseph  in  the  house  of  Pharaoh.  But  they  did 
live  there,  and  kept  their  religion.  It  is  not  the 
place  we  are  in — not  so  much  lokere  we  are  or  who 
we  are,  that  makes  us  happy,  as  what  we  are.  xVl- 
ways  remember  that  lie  w  ho  is  holy  must  be  happy. 
I  do  not  believe  I  ever  grew  faster  in  grace  than 
when  religion  was  at  its  lowest  ebb  around  me. 
Seeing  these  fragments  of  broken  vessels  floating 
around  me  always  has  a  beneficial  eflect  upon  me. 
My  prayer  is  continually :  Give  me  poverty,  sickness, 
or  pei-secution ;  but  O,  save  me  from  even  a  Laodi- 
cean hikewarmness.  Christ  has  left  one  promise  on 
record,  which,  like  Aaron's  girdle,  I  have  bound  for- 
ever to  my  bosom :  "  If  ye  keep  my  command- 
ments ye  shall  abide  in  my  love,  even  as  I  keep  my 
Father's  commandments  and  abide  in  his  love." 
llciider,  mark  the  word  even  ;  that  is  to  a  water-level 
with  Christ. 

It  makes  no  difl'ei'ence  if  you  are  a  beggar  or  a 
king ;  even  as  God  the  Father  loved  his  own  dear 
Son,  so  will  Jesus  Christ  love  you.  Christ  further 
declares,  "  These  things  I  say  unto  you,"  not  that  my 
joy  may  be  felt  now  and  then,  at  a  camp-meeting, 
or  love-feast,  or  in  the  spring-time,  when  every  little 
stream  overflows  its  banks,  but  "  that  my  joy  might 
remain  in  you,  and  that  )-our  joy  may  be  full." 
Yes,  glory  to  God !  your  heart  and  mine  may 
be  full  and  running  over  from  this  moment 
until  our  feet  are  set  in  triumph  on  the  other  side 
of  Jordan. 

17 


'258  TKIAJLS  AND  TKlL.Ml'llS  IN  Tllli 

True  faitli,  like  water,  will  rise  in  tlie  pen-stock 
level  with  the  fountain.  So  let  us  lay  our  pipes 
I'ight  at  the  head  of  the  fountain,  on  the  pinnacle  of 
Mount  Zion ;  for  it  is  written,  "  According  to  thy 
faith  be  it  unto  thee." 

During  the  winter  of  1847  father  Roper,  whose 
name  is  written  upon  the  hearts  of  thousands,  com- 
menced a  protracted  meeting  in  Franldbrt.  This 
was  about  his  last  work  on  earth.  Standing  up  in 
the  old  Masonic  hall,  in  Moses-like  meekness,  he 
wept  over  sinners  in  Frankfort  as  he  warned  them 
to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  and  lay  hold  on  thg 
hope  set  before  them. 

Here  permit  us  again  to  speak  of  her  whose  life 
forms  a  part  of  this  narrative.  Mrs.  Ilenry,  though 
timid  and  retiring  as  the  fawn  that  startles  at  the  rus- 
tling leaf  on  every  other  occasion  except  the  advocat- 
ing of  the  glorious  cause  of  Christ,  could  now  rise, 
in  the  strength  of  hei'  Master  and  in  the  face  of  infi- 
delity, and  exhort  sinnere  to  come  to  Jesus,  and  then, 
with  strong  crying  and  tears,  entreat  God  in  their 
behalf  Tiie  fear  of  him  whose  power  is  limited  to 
the  destruction  of  the  body,  had  given  place  to  that 
perfect  love  which  casteth  out  all  fear. 

How  true  it  is  that  God  often  uses  the  Aveakest 
instruments  to  bring  to  naught  the  wisdom  of  the 
wise !  Here  was  a  feeble  lamb  facing  an  army  of 
wolves.  Glory  to  God  on  high  !  It  is  not  in  our 
own  strength  that  we  measure  swords  with  the 
juince  of  darkness.    But  the  protracted  meeting 


LIFK  OF  O.  \V.  HENKY. 


■259 


iv;is  brouglit  to  a  close.  Although  not  as  many 
fish  were  drawn  to  shore  as.  we  could  wish,  j-et 
every  honest  tear  was  bottled,  and  at  a  future  time, 
as  we  shall  hereafter  i-elate,  poured  out  in  a  shower 
of  mercy  upon  many  hearts  in  Frankfort.  As  I 
have  mentioned  father  Roper,  I  will  close  this  chap- 
ter by  relating  a  dream. 

A  few  weeks  after  father  Roper  was  borne  away 
on  angels'  wings  to  his  long-sought  rest,  it  so  hap- 
pened that  I  lodged  in  the  same  bed  where  he  left 
his  armour  to  receive  his  crown.  After  falling 
asleep  I  dreamed  that  some  one  came  to  me,  bring- 
ing letters  from  several  preachers,  and  among  the 
rest  one  fi-om  ftvther  Roper.  I  inquired  where  I 
could  find  him,  and  the  messenger  pointed  to  the 
top  of  a  hill,  through  a  long  row  of  splendid  build- 
ing's, to  a  door  opposite  a  tree.  That,  said  he,  is 
father  Roper's  house. 

As  I  came  to  the  door,  a  being  transcendcntly 
beautiful  welcomed  me  in.  Great  God,  where  shall 
I  find  language  to  describe  the  gloi  ies  of  that  scene ! 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  jienetrate  this  heavenly  saloon 
seemed  to  be  lit  up  with  ten  thousand  chandeliers, 
shedding  a  halo  of  mellow  light  upon  a  garden  of 
flowers,  variegated  and  beautiful,  beyond  anythuig 
we  ever  discovered,  read  of,  or  imagined  on  earth. 
In  this  garden  I  saw  many  of  my  youthful  compan- 
ions, who  had  long  since  passed  the  portals  of  death. 
One  of  them  brought  me,  on  a  plate,  a  cut  water- 
melon.   Her  countenance  w;is  ladiant  with  heav- 


200  TKIALS  AND  IKlUMl'Jlb  IN  THE 

cnly  pence  and  joy.  The  very  thought  of  that 
.scene  Jias  ii  thousand  times  ravished  my  heart  with 
joy  as  I  travel  on  in  this  vale  of  tears,  singing  as 
I  go, 

"  No  foot  of  land  do  I  possess, 
No  cottage  in  this  wilderness." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

It  is  now  the  spring  of  1846,  and  in  the  fourth  year 
of  my  pilgrimage  to  Mount  Zion  and  the  first  year 
in  the  land  of  Beulah.  One  of  the  certain  fruits  of 
a  young  convert  is  a  missionary  spirit.  The  prophet 
Isaiah,  after  the  coal  of  hallowed  fire  was  laid  upon 
his  lips  and  his  iniquity  taken  away  and  liis  sin 
jnnged,  heard  a  voice  fi'om  the  throne,  saying, 
"  Whom  shall  we  send  ?"  He  replied,  "  Lord,  liere 
am  I,  send  me." 

With  the  young  convert  there  is  not  only  a  will- 
ingness, but  a  burning  desire  to  tell  what  God  has 
(lone  for  him.  John  Bunyan  says  that,  returning 
liome  from  church  after  his  conversion,  he  saw  a 
Hock  of  crows ;  and  so  great  was  his  love  for  every- 
thing that  God  had  made,  that  he  would  willingly 
have  stopped  and  told  them  the  story  of  Jesus's  par- 
doning love  if  they  could  have  understood  him. 

This  missionary  spirit  flames  still  higher  when  the 
eye  is  touched  the  second  time,  and  we  behold  every 


I.IKK  OF  C.  \V.  IIENRV. 


innii  in  liis  [rue  lio-Iil ;  at,  leasl  fliis  wns  my  li;i]ipy 
<'\luTi('iK'0.  It  is  not  only  our  duty,  but  oxalti'd 
privilege  to  publisli  these  glad  tidings.  l)M\id 
wanted  to  gather  around  him  every  one  that  feared 
God  on  the  vvliole  earth,  to  tell  them  what  God  had 
done  for  his  soul ;  that  as  far  as  the  east  is  from  the 
west,  so  far  God  had  removed  his  sins  from  him. 

St.  Peter  seems  to  think  it  constitutes  a  great 
part  of  a  Christian's  duty  to  show  forth  the  praise 
of  Ilim  who  hath  called  us  from  darkness  into  his 
most  marvellous  light.  Yes,  bless  the  Lord !  Peter 
may  well  call  it  a  marvellous  light.  Like  the  burn- 
ing bush,  it  is  wonderful  to  behold,  doubly  so  to 
dwell  therein.  Saint  Paul  says.  Let  tis  therefore  ofter 
unto  God  the  sacrifice  of  praise ;  and,  lest  we  should 
mistake  his  meaning,  he  adds,  that  giving  praise  to 
his  name  is  the  fruit  of  our  lips.  Dr.  Payson  said 
that  lie  often  felt  like  borrowing  Gabriel's  trumpet? 
that  he  might  spread  the  news  of  salvation  from  pole 
to  pole.  This  same  seraphic  fire  blazed  in  the  soul 
of  your  humble  author. 

I  felt  that  if  I  had  the  tongue  of  angels,  if  every 
hair  of  my  head  were  a  tongue,  all  should  be  em- 
ployed in  spreading  the  glad  tidings  of  Scriptural 
holiness  over  the  land.  It  is  an  ancient  proverb, 
that  "  where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way."  As 
you  see,  reader,  I  have  been  almost  everything  in 
my  life  but  an  author,  and  surely  I  might  have  ex- 
pected to  be  anything  else  but  that.  Little  did  I 
think  that  the  giving  a  history  of  mv  life  to  the 


•2&/  TRIALS  AND  TliUMPllS  IX  THE 

world  would  benefit  any  one.  But  none  Imt  rjod 
can  bi'jng  something  out  of  nothing. 

If  I  ever  understood  the  leadings  of  the  Spirit,  it 
was  in  the  matter  of  giving  to  the  press  and  to  the 
world  an  account  of  the  dealings  of  God  with  my 
soul.  But  how  was  this  to  be  done  ?  It  would  cost 
f;e\  eral  hundred  dollars.  My  capital  stock  at  this 
time  consisted  of  a  feeble  wife  and  two  little  children, 
a  bundle  of  common  furniture  in  a  hired  house,  and 
I  a  blind  husband  and  father. 

But  I  am  thankful  in  my  sold  that  Jesus  Christ 
is  the  same  now  that  he  was  in  the  days  of  Saint 
Paul,  when  he  chose  the  weak  things  of  the  world 
to  confound  the  things  which  are  mighty ;  and  base 
things  of  the  world  and  things  which  are  despised 
hath  God  chosen,  yea,  and  things  which  are  not, 
to  bring  to  naught  things  that  are.  Reader,  was 
iiot  the  power  and  grace  of  God  magnified  by  the 
lifeless,  rough,  and  crooked  instrument  which  he 
made  use  of  in  throwing  down  the  walls  of  Jericho 
far  more  than  if  the  work  had  been  accomplished  hy 
means  of  Roman  engines  ?  What  general  of  the 
l)i'esent  day  would  select  the  jaw-bone  of  an  ass  as 
a  weapon  of  war  ?  The  reason  the  apostle  gives  for 
the  use  of  such  humble  instruments  is,  that  no  flesh 
should  glory  in  his  presence. 

If  we,  then,  glory  in  our  own  strength  or  wisdom, 
can  we  expect  God  to  make  us  instruments  of  good  ? 
A  minister,  whatever  his  talents  or  attainments,  is 
not  f|nnlifiod  to  bo  used  succcssfullv  in  spiritual  war- 


UFK  OF  U.  \V.  HKNliV, 


203 


fare  until  lie  lias  ceased  from  his  own  ivorks.  An 
ass  is  among  the  most  despised  of  animals  wliile  liv  - 
ing ;  but  it  was  when  the  jaw-bone  had  ceased  from 
its  own  works — was  dead  and  laid  aside — that  it  was 
used  successfully  in  the  hands  of  Samson  against 
his  enemies.  Even  so  every  minister  of  Christ  should 
be  evangelically  dead — or  as  indifferent  to  flatteries 
or  frowns,  glories  or  honours,  as  the  humble  bone 
used  to  slay  the  Philistines.  Christ  M  as  slain  to  re- 
ceive power  and  riches,  wisdom  and  strength,  honour, 
and  glory,  and  blessing ;  and  in  vain  may  his  true 
followers  look  for  power,  heavenly  riches,  and  hon- 
ours, until  they  have  nailed  their  lives,  property,  and 
even  their  darling  reputation  to  the  cross.  They 
must  be  willing,  too,  .so  to  be  lifted  up  that  a  wicked 
world  may  wag-  their  heads  and  point  the  finger  of 
scorn,  and  the  Pharisaical  cold-hearted  professor  of 
religion  say.  Come  down  from  the  cross ;  that  is, 
Come  down  on  a  level  with  us,  and  be  satisfied  with 
now  and  then  a  little  milk,  and  live  the  balance  of 
the  time  on  garlic  and  onions.  Then  we  can  fel- 
lowship you.  This  is  the  price  to  be  paid  for  holi- 
ness. This  is  selling  all  and  buying  the  field.  This 
is  our  diploma,  our  qualification  for  holy  war.  For 
it  is  written,  "Stronger  is  He  that  is  in  you  than  he 
that  is  in  the  world."  So  much  for  the  instruments 
with  which  God  chooses  to  carry  on  his  warfare. 
Therefore  take  courage,  my  soul,  and  what  he  saith 
unto  thee  write  in  a  book.  I  have  said  I  was  with- 
out capital,  but  here  I  was  mistaken.    Can  a  man 


•204  TRIALS  AND    iRlUMl'IlS  IN  THE 


lie  without  capital  who  lias  a  sanctified  companion 
praying 'for  him,  together  with  the  promises  of  a 
faithful  God,  who  never  mocks  a  feeble  worm  by 
commanding  him  to  stretch  forth  a  paralyzed  and 
withered  arm  without  giving  the  power  to  do  it. 
So  we  went  forth  to  our  work  comj)aratively  penni- 
less; and  as  fast  as  Satan  planted  sycamore-trees 
and  raised  up  mountains  of  difficulties,  Faith  said.  Be 
ye  removed  and  cast  into  the  depths  of  the  sea.  A 
contract  was  made  to  print  a  book  of  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pages. 

I  came  liome,  put  a  pen  into  the  hand  of  the 
little  boy  that  I  had  hired  to  be  the  light  of  my 
eyes,  and  commenced  in  good  earnest  to  make  a 
l)oolv.  In  the  language  of  Bunyan,  "  As  I  pulled, 
it  came,"  and  in  about  five  weeks  I  had  upwards  of 
three  hundred  pages.  I  got  fifteen  hundred  copies 
in-inted,  and  it  cost  over  four  hundred  dollars. 

The  printer  and  bookbinder  seemed  as  willing  to 
wait  as  if  I  was  worth  my  thousands.  He  that 
called  me  to  this  work  had  prepared  the  way  before 
me.  0,  how  good  it  is  to  trust  the  Lord.  The 
first  book  I  oflfered  for  sale,  was  at  the  Method- 
ist Conference,  in  LoAvville.  I  had  with  me,  besides 
the  books,  a  quantity  of  fine  cloth,  and  hair-brushes 
of  my  own  make.  Almost  every  minister  bought  a 
brush  of  me,  and  took  a  dozen  of  my  little  books 
to  sell.    God  bless  them  ! 

The  next  door  that  opened  was  the  school  dis- 
trict library,  accompanied  with  high  commendations 


LIFE  OF  0.  \V.  IIENIIV. 


2G5 


from  tlie  superintendents,  .ludge  (xravos  and  others, 
llerel  must  acknowledge,  with  gratitude,  the  special 
providence  of  God  in  enabling  me  to  provide  for 
the  support  and  comfort  of  a  helpless  family.  The 
school  district  libraries  liave  from  five  to  twenty 
dollars  appropriated  annually,  for  the  purchase  of 
books.  So,  instead  of  going  around  with  one  book, 
I  took  my  boy  and  attended  the  great  book  auc- 
tions which  are  held  twice  a  year  in  the  city  of 
New- York ;  and  from  that  year  until  the  spring 
of  1852,  I  have  generally  bought  and  sold  about 
one  thousand  dollars  worth  of  books  annually,  so 
that  the  barrel  and  the  cruse  have  never  yet  been 
empty.  My  bread  and  water  have  been  most  as- 
suredly given. 

Anotlier  eti'ectual  door  it  opened  to  me.  While 
the  fifteen  hundred  tongues,  in  the  shape  of  a  little 
silent  book,  were  proclaiming  the  goodness  of  God 
to  my  soul,  I  found  a  large  itinerant  field  in  which 
to  preach  the  gospel.  This  opportunity  I  gladly 
embraced ;  and  there  are  but  very  few  churches,  for 
twenty  miles  around  Frankfort,  in  which  I  have  not 
been  permitted  to  proclaim  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  Christ.  Glory  to  God  for  the  privilege  !  I  have 
made  it  a  rule  never  to  enter  a  house,  or  to  be  in 
the  company  of  any  person  a  sufficient  length  of 
time  to  give  an  opportunity,  without  saying  some- 
thing about  a  pi-eparation  for  eternity.  I  never 
hoar  the  bell  tolling  the  departure  of  a  neighbour 
from  time  into  eternity,  without  asking  myself: 


266 


TRIALS  AND  TRIl'MPHS  IN  THK 


"Have  I  (lone  my  duty  to  that  soul?"  Gracious 
(tolI,  let  me  feel  for  souls  now  as  I  shall  in  that 
(lay  when  thou  shalt  come  to  reckon  with  both 
preacher  and  people!  One  cheering  thought  is, 
that  in  that  day  I  shall  hail  with  joy,  in  the  glori- 
ous city,  tliousands  whom  I  have  never  seen,  yet 
dearly  love.  My  brethren,  whose  voices  I  am  famil- 
iar with,  but  whose  faces  I  have  never  seen,  will 
gieet  me  there.  Many  of  them  I  have  perfectly 
daguerreo typed  in  my  own  mind,  as  if  I  had  seen 
them  all  my  life ;  and  my  own  children,  that  I  have 
never  seen,  seem  to  be  as  familiar  to  me  in  every 
feature,  as  if  I  had  looked  upon  them  every  day  of 
their  lives.  So  strong  is  the  illusion,  that  it  seems 
to  me,  if  ray  sight  should  suddenly  be  restored, 
I  should  certainly  recognise  them  far  from  home. 
I  have  thought  it  would  be  a  great  curiosity  if  I 
should  suddenly  receive  my  sight,  to  see  how  mis- 
taken I  had  been  in  picturing  out  the  visage  of  men 
and  things  since  I  became  blind.  How  much  more 
if  I  had  been  born  blind.  How  old  Bartirneus 
must  have  wondered  when  Jesus  touched  his  eyes, 
and  lie  beheld  the  thousand  beauties  of  nature  for 
the  first  time  !  With  what  astonishment  did  he  be- 
hold the  king  of  day,  with  his  golden  beams  I  With 
what  pleasure  did  he  gaze  upon  the  green  fields  of 
Palestine,  and  still  more  when  he  beheld  the  face  of 
his  divine  oculist.  And  doubly  so,  he  who  was 
both  deaf  and  blind.  At  a  word,  the  deaf  ear  was 
unsealed,  and  listened  with  unspeakable  joy  to  na- 


LIFE  OF  a.  \V.  IIENUV. 


•201 


tnro's  tlirillinj^  anthems.  Gracious  God !  if  the 
o])OHing  of  tlie  eye  and  the  ear  to  the  beauties  of 
the  natural  world  will  cause  such  rapture,  how  in- 
describably thrilling  must  be  the  emotions  of  one 
translated  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
to  behold  the  glories  of  the  upper  world,  and  to 
have  the  songs  of  the  redeemed,  as  the  portals  of 
the  heavenly  gate  are  thrown  back,  suddenly  burst 
upon  the  ear.  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to 
conceive  the  things  God  hatli  prepared  for  them 
that  love  him."  I  once  heard  an  old  man  say,  that 
though  often  happy  in  God,  he  never  had  felt  like 
shouting — never  had  shouted  in  his  life ;  "  but,"  said 
he, "  if  I  am  ever  so  fortunate  as  to  reach  heaven's  gate, 
when  T  see  the  host  of  the  redeemed — the  ransomed 
of  the  Lord,  from  the  whole  earth — the  poor,  the 
rich,  the  black,  the  white,  the  old  and  tlie  young, 
all  go  up  together  to  possess  their  heavenly  inherit- 
ance, as  they  pass  the  threshold  of  heaven,  and  cast 
the  first  -wondering  look  around  heaven's  vast  do- 
main, and  strike  the  first  note  of  praise  unto  '  Him 
who  hath  loved  us,  and  washed  us,  and  given  him- 
self for  us,'  I  think  I  shall  send  up  one  shout  of 
glory  to  God." 


208 


TRIALS  AND  TOIl'MPIIS  IN  THE 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  fall  of  184Y  found  me  set  down  at  a  camp- 
meeting  in  M'Connellsville.  This  was  Israel's  an- 
nual festivity,  or  feast  of  tabernacles,  a  kind  of  a 
harvest-home  to  the  reapers.  You  have  been  with 
me,  dear  reader,  to  a  gi-eat  many  camp-meetings, 
while  I  was  living  in  a  state  of  justification,  and  you 
will  not  expect  me  to  relinquish,  in  a  higher  and 
holier  state,  such  a  nuptial  festivity.  My  com- 
panion, also,  came  w  ith  me,  in  order  to  participate 
in  those  holy  delights ;  but  the  Master  of  Assemblies, 
in  his  wisdom,  set  before  her  a  plate  of  bitter  herbs, 
while  my  portion,  like  that  of  Benjamin,  seemed  to 
be  increased  five-fold.  Wliile  the  windows  of 
heaven  were  raised,  and  my  soul  iimndated  with 
heavenly  glory,  she  was  called  to  suffer.  She  was 
taken  suddenly  ill,  and  was  removed  from  tlie  camp- 
ground to  the  house  of  sister  Koon,  who  also  left 
the  field,  like  a  guardian  angel,  to  smooth  her  pil- 
low in  sickness.  Here  was  a  sacrifice  far  richer  in 
the  sight  of  God  than  ever  smoked  from  a  Jewish 
altar.  Here  was  an  exhibition  of  that  love  which 
seeketh  not  her  own,  but  another's  good.  How 
good  it  is  for  the  sick  to  fall  into  the  arms  of  mercy. 
What  a  rich  investment  were  the  twopence  sacri- 
ficed by  the  Samaritan  for  the  good  of  his  afflicted 
neighbour.    Yes,  glory  to  God  !  every  step,  every 


LIFK  OF  O.  W.  UliNKV.  269 

tear,  and  every  penny  invested  in  tlio  cause  of 
mercy  will  yield  a  rich  reward,  if  given  from  pure 
love  to  God  and  man.  Thousands  of  years  in  par- 
ailisc  for  the  least  good  thought,  and  thousands  of 
thousands  for  the  least  good  deed,  and  then  the 
reckoning  shall  begin  again,  till  all  arithmetic  is  ex- 
hausted, for  you  shall  be  swallowed  up  in  a  blest 
eternity,  and  the  doors  of  heaven  shall  be  shut  upon 
you,  and  there  shall  be  no  moi-e  going  out ;  so  shall 
wo  be  ever  with  the  Lord.  To  leave  a  camp-meet- 
ing to  attend  to  the  sick,  is  something  like  Jesus 
leaving  heaven  and  coming  down  to  earth  to  bind 
up  the  broken-hearted.  May  the  Lord  ever  bless 
sister  Koon  1  But  let  us  return  to  the  camp-meet- 
ing. Brother  Squires,  who  has  since  taken  his 
passport  to  the  eternal  world,  was  preaching;  his 
text  was ;  "  And  let  the  God  that  answers  by  fire, 
be  God."  I,  hke  Stephen,  looked  steadfastly  up 
into  heaven,  and  suddenly  the  hallowed  fire  came 
down,  seeming,  literally,  to  pass  through  soul,  body, 
and  spirit.  No  shower-bath  was  ever  more  sensibly 
felt  than  that  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of 
fire.  I  trembled  and  fell  to  the  ground.  In  this 
process  I  think  I  was  cured  of  a  little  spiritual  pride ; 
I  had  been  instructing  my  wife  a  few  days  previous 
on  a  more  genteel  way  of  shouting  when  slaui,  or 
overwhelmed  by  the  power  of  God.  Under  such 
powerfid  exercises  she  would  often  scream  and  yell 
at  the  top  of  her  voice.  I  told  her  it  would  appear 
better  if  she  would  articulate :  Glory  to  God !  Halle- 


270 


TKIALS  ANJJ  TKlLiU'llb  IN  THJi 


liijab  !  or,  Praise  the  Lord  !  This,  I  told  her,  would 
be  more- pleasing  to  the  ear  of  those  who  surround- 
ed her.  Thus  I  put  forth  the  hand  to  steady  the 
ark  ;  but  when  the  power  of  God  overwhelmed  my 
soul  on  the  occasion  above  referred  to,  in  spite  of  all 
of  nature's  powers  or  modern  fashions,  I  yelled  like 
a  panther  :  I  felt  my  pride  greatly  mortified,  while 
the  devil  whispered  to  me  that  my  brethren  would 
all  be  tried  with  me  for  making  such  a  great  noise; 
and  thus  has  been  the  manner  of  my  exercises  up 
to  the  present  day ;  and  when  Satan  comes  whisper- 
ing, order  and  decency,  I  just  tell  him  to  get  behind 
me,  and  not  trouble  himself  about  children  that  do 
not  belong  to  him.  Very  likely  if  it  was  not  for  this 
thorn  in  the  flesh,  this  messenger  of  Satan  to  buffet 
me,  these  peculiar  exercises  might  be  the  occasion  of 
pride.  Some  one  has  said,  "  Deep  is  the  sea,  and  deep 
is  hell,  but  pride  mineth  deeper."  Mark  its  various 
transformations,  as  it  seeks  to  retain  its  hold  upon 
the  heart ;  even  at  the  throne  of  grace  it  will  beset 
thee  ;  yea,  from  the  palaces  of  heaven  ambitious 
pride  once  cast  down  a  legion  of  angels ;  doubtless, 
pride  is  the  most  powerful  engine  that  the  prince  of 
darlcness  ever  run  out  from  his  depot ;  it  is  destroy- 
ing more  devotees  at  this  day  than  were  ever  crushed 
under  the  wheels  of  Juggernaut.  God  knows  that, 
blind  and  poor  as  I  am,  I  am  more  afraid  of  this 
than  of  war,  famine,  or  cholera.  Here,  at  this  camp- 
meeting,  I  met,  for  the  first  time,  sister  Elizabeth 
Ward,  under  circumstances  never  to  be  forgotten. 


LlfK  Of  U.  W.  HKNKY. 


271 


About  twelve  o'clock  on  the  firet  night  of  the 
ciunp-mceting,  as  I  was  returning  from  a  prayer- 
meeting,  I  heard  deep  and  fervent  intercessions 
going  up  to  God  in  tones  of  earnest  entreaty.  It 
was  Elizabeth  wrestling  for  the  ci-own  of  perfect  love, 
which  a  short  time  previous  had  fallen  from  her 
head.  As  she  saw  me  she  said,  "Brother  Henry, 
come  and  pray  for  me."  I  was,  at  this  time,  nearly 
on  the  top- round  of  Jacob's  ladder,  and  I  felt  more 
like  praising  than  praying.  But  we  knelt  down 
there,  and  once  more  measured  swords  with  the 
]>rince  of  darkness.  The  contest  was  severe,  but 
liiith  told  us  the  victory  should  be  oui-s,  and  so  it 
was.  She  again  received  the  crown  of  perfect  love, 
and  wore  it  in  triumph  a  few  days  on  earth,  and 
then  melted  away  from  the  vision  of  her  earthly 
friends,  as  the  mor;iing  star  melts  away  in  the  upper 
and  brighter  sky.  Her  friends  have  prepared  a 
little  volume  of  her  life  and  warfare  upon  earth,  and 
her  early  translation  to  her  mansion  of  light.  On 
tlie  last  morning  of  the  camp-meeting.  Brother 
Ilartwell  preached  from  this  text :  "  Create  in  mo  a 
clean  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within 
me."  My  seat  being  immediately  in  front  of  the  stand, 
I  felt  the  honey  very  sensibly  dropping  from  the  rock 
as  he  blew  the  gospel  trumpet  over  my  head,  sweeten- 
ing all  my  ransomed  powers.  The  sermon  being  ovci', 
I  started  for  the  tent ;  but,  like  the  man  sitting  at 
the  beautiful  gate,  I  felt  my  feet  and  ankle-bones 
receive  sti-ength,  and  commenced  leaping  and  prais- 


272  rUIALS  AND  TKlUMPllS  IN  THE 

ing  God.  Tlie  meeting  closed  with  a  love-feast,  at 
which  »  cloud  of  young  converts  testified  that  they 
had  in  that  hallowed  place  found  a  sepulchre  for  all 
their  sins.  There  were  also  witnesses,  not  a  few,  of 
complete  and  full  salvation.  Glory  to  God  for  full 
sah'ation  !  glory  to  God  for  camp-meetings  !  How 
many  in  the  Church  above  would  this  day  echo 
back.  Glory  to  God  for  camp-meetings  1  for  it  has 
been  the  gate  of  heaven  to  their  souls. 

Do  not  think,  reader,  that  we  are  going  to  make 
up  our  whole  life  on  the  camp-ground.  Still,  it  will 
be  something  like  the  history  of  the  Revolutionary 
Wjir — mostly  made  up  of  great  battles  and  glorious 
victories,  while  little  is  said  about  the  days  of  drill- 
ing, brightening  up  armour,  &c.  But  as  Israel  had 
pitched  their  tents  again  on  the  plains  of  the  town 
of  Schuyler,  my  wife  being  convalescent,  we  raised 
a  little  canvass  house  of  our  own ;  and,  my  Lord ! 
was  not  that  a  Bethel  to  my  soul  ?  I  was  like  a 
balloonist  I  once  saw  in  Philadelphia.  After  his 
balloon  was  inflated,  he  got  into  his  little  car,  and 
requested  his  friends  to  let  him  lise  about  twenty 
feet,  and  then  fasten  it  to  the  gi-ound  with  a  cord, 
until  he  had  everything  in  readiness  to  rise  higher. 
Even  so  it  was  with  my  soul.  It  was  perfectly  in- 
flated with  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.  I  think  I  then 
realized  the  prayer  of  the  apostle  in  behalf  of  the 
Ephesians,  "that  they  might  know  the  hva  of 
Christ,  which  passcth  knowledge,"  and  "be  filled 
with  all  the  fulness  of  God."    Yes,  glory  to  God ! 


i.iFK  OK  i;.  w.  iiiONiiv.  273 

my  soul  was  floating  t;ir  above  tlie  principalities 
and  powers  of  earth  ;  and  had  death  at  that  limo 
lieen  permitted  to  cut  the  silver  cord,  my  ransomed 
soul  would  have  soared  away  to  the  home  of  its 
(iod.  My  wife,  while  engaged  with  Martha's  hands, 
had  Mary's  heart.  She  had  long  since  chosen  that 
good  part  which  Mary  chose ;  and,  thank  God,  al- 
though four  long  years  have  passed  since  that  time, 
it  has  never  been  taken  from  her.  Although  sick- 
ness and  sore  conllict-s  have  marked  almost  every 
step  of  her  way  since  that  time,  yet  she  has  been 
abundantly  sustained.  I  wisli  to  mention  one  little 
incident  that  occurred  at  this  meeting,  about  my 
making  money  out  of  the  devil.  I  was  on  my 
knees  praising  the  Lord,  when  my  little  boy  cam  3 
and  whispered  in  my  ear,  "  Brother  Henry,  some- 
body has  cut  our  harness  all  to  pieces."  I  turned 
and  said,  "  Do  not  say  a  word  about  it ;  if  the  devil 
wants  to  whet  up  his  knife  on  my  old  harness,  let 
him  do  it ;  it  shall  not  disturb  my  peace."  Neither 
could  he;  for  just  then  I  felt  rich  in  the  Lord. 
How  glad  he  would  have  been  to  have  disturbed 
my  temper  a  little,  and  make  me  murmur  against 
God  for  permitting  me  to  sufler  loss,  when  I  was 
in  the  way  of  my  duty.  So  I  told  the  boy  not  to 
mention  it ;  but  I  was  too  late,  for  he  had  already 
told  several  on  the  ground,  and  several  of  the 
brethren  came  and  slipped  a  piece  of  money  into 
my  hand  or  pocket,  to  make  up  the  loss.  And  at 
the  close  of  iho  meeting,  brother  .Tones  came  and 


274  TKIAI.S  AND  TKIl^Mr'llis  IN  IllE 

lnouglit  nie  a  very  good  old  lianiess,  and  said, 
"  J3rother  Henry,  I  will  make  you  a  present  of  this 
harness."  So  I  put  it  on  niy  horse,  and  used  it  two 
or  three  years.  My  harness  that  was  cut  I  got 
mended  for  one  shilling.  So  you  see  I  made  quite 
a  speculation  out  of  the  devil  that  time.  If  we  want 
to  take  advantage  of  the  devil,  it  is  in  vain  to  quarrel 
with  him,  for  lie  has  the  henefit  of  long  experience, 
and  is  very  subtle  ;  but  we  should  do  as  the  servants 
did  in  the  case  of  the  unmerciful  creditor.  They 
went  and  told  their  Lord,  wlio  at  once  punished 
him  severely.  Well,  once  more  we  were  safely  at 
liome,  and  now  comes  the  test  of  our  Christian 
graces.  Many  Christians  would  stand  a  hard  brush 
with  the  old  evil  one  in  person,  while  at  the  same 
time  he  Avould  grow  perplexed  and  peevish  at  a 
thousand  little  trials  not  larger  than  a  mosquito. 

Hei'e  is  a  wasting  of  spiritual  strength  so  per- 
petual and  gradual,  that  it  is  hardly  perceived  until 
the  pool-  soul  finds  itself  far  gone  in  a  spiritual  con- 
sumption. The  shorn  Christian  wonders  at  it,  for 
he  has  kept  up  his  usual  form  of  prayer,  both  in 
public  and  private ;  indeed  he  cannot  think  of  any 
sin  of  omission  or  commission,  that  he  has  been 
knowingly  and  willingly  guilty  of ;  but  there  he  is. 
As  great  mountains  are  made  up  of  little  particles 
of  sand,  so  these  little  mosquito  trials  have  rolled 
up  a  mountain  of  sin  between  him  and  his  God. 
Perhaps  you  have  often  prayed  that  the  Lord  would 
pour  out  his  Spirit  upon  the  heathen,  and  convert 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


•275 


tlio  world,  and  build  up  liis  kingdom  evcvywliero, 
wlion  at  the  same  time  a  whole  swarm  of  petty 
vexations  and  little  anxieties  are  so  distracting  your 
thoughts,  that  you  hardly  know  what  you  are 
saying. 

Perhaps  a  careless  servant  is  wasting  your  sub- 
stance, or  a  blundering  workman  has  spoiled  your 
goods,  a  child  is  vexatious  or  unruly,  a  friend  has 
made  promises  and  failed  to  keep  them,  an  ac- 
quaintance has  made  unjust  or  satirical  remarks,  or 
you  have  a  headache,  your  house  is  in  disorder,  and 
company  comes  that  you  wish  to  have  form  a  good 
opinion  of  you  ;  but  all  this  calls  forth  no  prayer  for 
strength  and  patience,  though  it  is  all  the  time 
lying  like  lead  upon  the  heart.  You  feel  as  if  these 
were  small  affairs  to  trouble  the  Lord  with,  and  thus 
your  stock  of  grace  diminishes,  speck  by  speck,  and 
the  peaceful  dove  has  flown  from  your  turbulent 
breast.  O  if  God  were  only  known  and  regarded  as 
the  soul's  familiar  friend,  every  little  care  as  it  comes 
to  us  would  be  laid  upon  him  who  is  able  to  bear 
it,  and  our  lightened  spirits  would  pass  on  rejoicing 
in  him  who  has  said,  "  Trust  in  the  Lord  with  all 
thy  heart,  and  lean  not  unto  thine  own  under- 
standing. In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge  him,  and 
he  shall  direct  thy  paths." 


270  TRIALS  AND  TliirMPIlS  IN'  THE 


CHAPTER  XXIir. 

About  tliis  time  a  circumstance  occurred  that  I  wish 
to  mention  to  the  praise  of  God's  sustaining  grace. 
God  had  given  us  a  darhng  boy.  For  eleven  short 
weeks  we  held  the  little  treasure,  and  then  our 
heavenly  Father  unwound  the  thousand  little  tendiils 
it  had  thrown  around  our  hearts,  and  suddenly  bore 
him  away  to  bloom  among  the  flowers  of  paradise, 
There  is  a  flower  called  the  night-blooming  Cereus. 
About  nine  o'clock  at  night  it  begins  to  unfold  its 
petals,  and  continues  expanding  until  midnight, 
when  it  appears  one  of  the  most  lovely  flowers  ever 
beheld  by  mortal  eye.  From  this  time  it  gTadually 
closes  up,  until  at  three  o'clock  it  is  completely  hid 
in  its  foliage.  So  it  was  with  our  little  Charles 
Emory.  We  had  but  just  looked  upon  his  loveli- 
ness, wlien  he  passed  forever  from  our  sight.  This 
was  a  great  affliction  to  Mrs.  Henry.  Unconsciously 
she  had  made  an  idol  of  her  babe.  Let  it  ever  be 
remembered,  that  our  God  is  a  jealous  God,  who 
never  did,  and  never  will  make  any  compromise 
with  an  idol.  Consequently  one  or  the  other  must 
be  given  up.  The  crisis  had  come  when  the  crown 
of  perfect  love  must  fall  from  the  head  of  the  mother, 
or  the  idol  be  turned  out  of  the  temple.  God  in 
mercy  took  the  child,  and  stayed  himself  to  comfort 
the  broken-hearted  mourner.    Wlien  I  lost  my  first 


LIFK  OF  CJ.  \V.  UliNRV. 


1277 


child,  I  murmured  ;  but  I  could  say  on  this  occasion, 
"  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ; 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  My  dear  wii'e 
too  was  brought  to  say, 

"  The  dearest  idol  I  have  known, 

Whate'cr  that  idol  be, 
Help  me  to  tear  it  from  thy  tlirouc, 
And  worship  only  thee." 

Her  heart  was  again  cleansed  from  idols,  and 
sprinkled  with  clean  water.    She  shouted  at  the 
funeral.    A  wonderful  peace  flooded  my  soul.  The 
little  grave  had  no  gloom.    The  clods  of  the  valley 
falling  on  the  little  narrow  house,  seemed  like  the 
bells  of  the  new  Jerusalem  inviting  us  to  the  man- 
sion of  light,  whither  he  had  fled. 
"  I  remember  how  I  loved  him  when  a  little  guiltless  child 
I  saw  him  in  tlie  cradle,  as  he  look'd  on  me  and  smiled  ; 
My  cup  of  liappiness  was  full,  my  joy  words  cannot  tell, 
And  I  bless'd  the  glorious  Giver,  who  doeth  all  things  well. 

"  Months  pass'd  :  that  bud  of  promise  was  unfolding  every  hour ; 
I  thought  that  earth  had  never  smiled  upon  a  fairer  flower ; 
So  beautiful,  it  well  might  grace  the  bower  where  angels  dwell, 
And  waft  its  fragrance  to  His  throne,  who  doeth  all  things  well. 

"  He  was  the  lonely  star  whose  light  around  my  pathway  shone, 
Amid  the  darksome  vale  of  tears  through  which  we  journey  on  ; 
Its  radiance  had  obscured  the  light  which  round  the  throne 
doth  dwell. 

And  I  wander'd  far  away,  from  Him  who  doeth  all  things  well. 
"  That  star  went  down  in  beauty,  yet  it  shineth  sweetly  now, 
In  the  bright  and  dazzling  coronet,  that  decks  the  Saviour's 
brow ; 

He  bow'd  to  the  destroyer,  whose  shafts  none  may  repel. 
Rut  we  know,  for  God  hath  told  us,  he  doeth  all  things  well. 


276 


TKIALS  AND  TRlUMl'llb  IN  THE 


"  I  remember  well  my  sorrow,  as  I  stood  beside  his  bed, 
And  my  deep  and  heartfelt  anguish,  when  they  told  me  he 
*  was  dead : 

And  O,  that  cup  of  bitterness  ! — let  not  my  heart  rebel : 
God  gave,  he  took,  he  will  restore,  he  doeth  all  things  well." 

So  now,  reader,  I  liave  told  the  birth  and  death 
of  my  little  boy ;  but  I  do  not  ask  your  teai-s  or 
sympathies.  Although  the  blowing  out  of  the  little 
candle  was  taking  light  from  a  blind  man's  path, 
l  omoving  the  little  staff  that  he  might  have  leaned 
upon  as  he  went  forth  proclaiming  a  free  and  full 
salvation  to  wretched  and  dying  men ;  yet,  what 
were  all  these  advantages,  compared  with  the  jewel 
t>f  perfect  love  ?  The  value  of  a  thing  must  be  es- 
timated not  only  by  the  first  cost,  but  by  what  it 
costs  to  keep  it.  The  price  of  salvation  was  nothing 
less  than  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  he  who 
thinks  or  imagines  that  a  pure  heart  can  be  pre- 
served without  daily  sacrifices,  perpetual  watchfiil- 
ncss,  and  unceasing  prayer,  will  soon  find  that  the 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ  must  again  be  applied  to 
cleanse  from  all  sin.  Many  a  man  will  steal  your 
guineas,  that  would  not  touch  your  pennies.  A 
stranger  may  ask,  as  he  beholds  the  marble  edifice 
in  the  city,  why  those  massive  bolts  and  bars  are 
sprung  upon  its  doors  and  windows  ?  why  those 
faithful  sentinels  march  around,  watching  with 
eagle  eye  every  liour  in  the  night  its  avenues  ?  He 
will  be  told  at  once  there  is  a  great  treasure  within 
tliu.si;  walls,  and  they  are  afraid  to  trust  even  bolts 
and  bars,  without  those  living  watchers.    Even  so, 


LIKK  Of  Li.  W.  IIENKY. 


279 


when  Christ  has  cleansed  your  heart  tVom  every  sin, 
and  phmted  his  own  precious  treasure  there,  do  not 
tliink  the  danger  is  over.  The  banished  enemy  of 
your  soul  and  his  allies  are  well  acquainted  with  the 
avenues  to  the  citadel  from  which  they  were  so 
lately  expelled  ;  and  unless  you  watch  unceasingly, 
looking  to  God  for  aid,  you  will  certainly  be  over- 
come. Perhaps  the  battle  has  already  been  fought, 
and  you  "  have  overcome  through  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb."  Satan  has  seemingly  lied  from  you,  and 
you  have  stacked  your  arms,  and  flattered  your  soul 
that  there  was  no  more  war  in  the  land.  But  re- 
member, reader,  that  the  old  deceiver  was  never 
more  deceitful  than  wlien  he  is  seeking  to  rock  you 
.-tslcep  in  the  cradle  of  self-indulgence ;  and  if  you 
once  fall  asleep,  he  will  be  as  careful  about  awaking 
you,  as  ever  a  burglar  was  about  awaking  the  in- 
mates of  tlie  house  he  was  robbing.  Do  not  forget, 
then,  to  watch  ;  and  I  pray  God  not  only  to  sanctify 
you  wholly,  soul,  body,  and  spirit,  but  to  preserve 
you  blameless  unto  his  coming.  "  Faithful  is  he 
that  calletli  you,  who  also  will  do  it." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


TuK  winter  of  1847,  1848  was  a  season  of  blessed 
Iriiils  to  mo.  They  showed  me  how  nuuh  I  loved 
the  ordiiiuuctj.s  of  God  and  the  harmonious  sound 


■^8U  TltlALS  ANU  XKlUMl'Hb  IN  THE 


(if  the  gcispel,  by  Jepriving  me  for  a  season  of  their 
Messed  enjoyments.  While  assisting  my  wife  in 
wringing  out  some  clothes  which  had  been  washed 
with  campliene,  I  took  a  violent  cold.  It  resulted 
in  i-heumatic  pains  and  deafness.  For  a  few  months 
it  was  with  difficulty  I  could  walk  across  the  floor, 
and  besides  I  was  really  deaf.  This  was  a  great 
trial  of  my  faith.  I  had  become  reconciled  to  blind- 
ness ;  but  now  the  question  came,  "  Are  you  Avilling 
to  have  your  ears  sealed  up  until  Gabriel  shall  blow, 
never  more  on  earth  to  listen  to  nature's  thrilling 
anthems — never  more  to  be  comforted  by  the  sweet 
voices  of  wife,  children,  and  fi-iends — never  more 
to  listen  to  the  harmonious  sound  of  the  gospel  ? 
In  addition  to  all  this,  are  you  willing  to  sutler  with 
malignant  rheumatic  pains,  threatening  to  disjoint 
the  whole  body  f  This  was  the  next  thing  to  be- 
ing buried  alive. 

I  do  believe  that  1  folded  uj^  my  arms  in  re- 
signation, and  said,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart, 
"  Amen.  Let  my  Father  do  what  seemeth  good  in 
his  sight."  I  do  not  think  there  was  a  shadow  or 
a  cloud  permitted  to  darken  the  glory  and  munifi- 
cence of  God  from  my  ransomed  soul.  I  still  dwelt 
in  Beulah.  I  had  got  beyond  Doubting  Castle,  and 
I  did  not  go  back. 

Among  the  few  resources  that  were  left  me,  I 
found  a  well  of  living  water  which  I  had  dug  and 
stored  up  in  my  time  of  health  and  hearing,  like 
the  little  boy  who  had  committed  to  memory  parts 


Lift:  iJf  U.  W,  UKNKY. 


281 


of  the  sacred  word.  When  liis  Catholic  parents  de- 
tected him,  and  burnt  liis  Bible,  he  said,  "  You  may 
take  away  my  book,  but  I  thank  God  yon  cannot 
take  from  me  the  twenty  chapters  I  liave  in  my 
memory."  So  it  was  with  me.  Since  I  have  been 
blind,  and  while  employed  in  making  brushes  for 
the  support  of  my  family,  I  have  employed  the 
little  boys,  hired  to  lead  me  about,  in  teaching  me 
passages  of  Scripture,  so  that,  at  the  time  I  am 
speaking  of,  I  could  repeat  a  hundred  chapters,  be- 
sides having  a  general  acquaintance  with  the  Bible. 
Now  I  liave  my  little  Florence,  eleven  yeai-s  old,  and 
(jieoi'ge  Wesley,  wliose  picture  you  see  in  the  fi-ontis- 
piece,  for  the  light  of  my  eyes.  I  do  believe  that 
the  committing  of  the  Scriptures  to  memory  haa 
been  one  of  the  principal  stepping-stones  by  which 
I  have  entered  into  the  audience-chamber  of  the 
King  of  kings.  Ilere  is  good  living.  To  a  soul 
fully  redeemed,  the  Bible  is  no  longer  a  dead  letter. 
It  becomes  spirit  and  life.  AVith  what  avidity  does 
the  loving  wife  break  the  seal  of  the  letter  she  re- 
ceives from  her  husband  while  he  is  in  California, 
procuring  riches  for  her  comfort !  When  he  speaks 
of  his  success  in  mining,  what  joy  dances  on  her 
countenance  !  Iler  eyes  fill  with  tears  of  joy  as  she 
reads,  "  A  little  while,  and  he  that  shall  come  Avill 
come,  and  will  not  taiTy."  Reader,  wliat  is  the 
cause  of  these  transports  of  joy?  Permit  me  to 
answer  for  you.  She  believes  what  she  reads,  and 
living,  burning,  realizing  faith  jwurs  into  the  coft'ei-s 


282  llllALS  AND  TlilUMl'HS  IN  ■llIE 

of  the  soul  the  substance  of  the  thing  hoped  for,  a 
sure  evidence  that  tlie  unseen  husband  yet  lives 
with  the  rich  treasure,  while  she,  with  appropriating 
faith,  says,  My  husband,  my  gold.  "All  mine  is 
tliine,  and  thine  is  mine."  You  see  here  how  the 
wife  has  a  fellowship  with  her  husband.  The  read- 
ing that  letter  is  with  her  the  next  thing  to  seeing 
him  face  to  face.  You  remember  the  letter  sent  to 
my  mother  with  the  intelligence  of  my  convei-sion 
tu  God.  She  not  only  broke  the  seal  and  read  the 
lines  with  more  than  a  mother's  joy,  but  she  carried 
it  in  her  pocket,  and  every  one  that  she  met  that 
loved  Jesus,  and  knew  what  it  was  to  rejoice  witli 
angels  and  men  over  a  repentant  sinner,  she  would 
take  it  out  and  read  it  to  them. 

In  her  conduct  was  displayed  an  exercise  of  per- 
fect faith.  She  simply  believed,  without  a  doubt, 
that  the  letter  she  held  in  her  hand  was  not  only 
the  sentiment  of  her  son,  but  that  every  word  of  it 
was  true.  It  was  to  her  reality ;  and  it  brought  to 
her  soul  as  much  joy,  perhaps,  as  if  she  had  heard 
my  lips  utter  the  truths  it  contained. 

Even  so  faith  in  spiritual  things  has  destroyed 
the  deadness  of  the  letter,  and  clothed  with  life 
the  precious  truths  of  God's  word.  The  precious 
promises,  both  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament, 
breathe  a  precious  assurance  into  my  soul  that  I 
shall  shortly  dwell  where  we  shall  have  no  need  of 
the  sun  or  the  moon,  for  the  glory  of  God  is  the 
light  of  that  place.    Ilallelnjah  to  heaven's  king ! 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  llEMvV. 


283 


Let  mc  repeat  to  you  again,  reader,  tliat  committing 
the  Bible  to  memory  has  been  a  wonderful  help  to 
me.  Well  might  David  say,  "  It  is  a  liglit  to  our 
feet,  a  lamp  to  our  path."  How  many  times  at 
midnight,  when  almost  every  lamp  of  earth  is  blowi 
out,  and  nearly  half  the  world  are  slumbering  in  the 
arms  of  Morpheus,  I  have  taken  out  my  Bible, 
which  is  engraven  upon  the  tablets  of  my  memory, 
and,  like  an  old  miser,  sought  to  count  up  my 
riches.  lie  reckons  up  his  promissory  notes,  bonds 
and  mortgages,  and  sets  them  down  as  so  much 
cash,  yet  there  is  not  one  particle  of  cash  about 
them.  They  are  only  promises  to  pay  him  money 
at  some  future  period.  Great  God,  may  I  not  have 
as  much  faith  in  the  promises,  bonds  and  mortgages, 
written  by  the  finger  of  God,  confirmed  by  the  oath 
of  the  Father,  and  testified  to  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
as  a  rich  worldling  has  in  his  papers,  or,  rather,  in 
tlie  faithfulness  and  ability  of  those  that  have  signed 
them  ?  Alas !  how  often  the  Christian  is  rebuked 
by  these  words  :  "  O  ye  of  little  faith  !" 

I  have  above  told  you  of  some  blessed  trials  of 
my  faith.  The  great  Refiner  walked  with  me 
through  the  furnace,  tempering  the  heat  as  he  saw 
I  was  able  to  bear  it,  bringing  me  through,  like  the 
three  worthies,  without  the  smell  of  fii-e  on  my  gar- 
ments. The  spring  of  1848  found  me  in  perfect 
health,  soul  and  bod)'.  Mrs.  Henry  wa-s  at  this 
time  spiritually  on  Mount  Pisgah.  To  pra}-,  testify 
and  exhort  in  the  open  courts  of  God's  house,  was 


284 


TRIALS  AND  TKIUMI'IIS  IN  THE 


to  her  more  than  her  meat  and  drink.  God,  in  his 
wisdom,  made  known  his  power  in  the  use  of  a 
weak,  trembling  woman ;  but  while  she  delighted 
in  all  the  ordinances  of  the  Lord,  the  hand  of  afflic- 
tion was  suddenly  laid  upon  her.  She  was  seized 
with  a  bronchial  affection,  which,  from  that  time  to 
this,  has  prevented  her  from  praying  in  an  audible 
voice.  Catarrh  and  spinal-affection  setting  in  about 
the  same  time,  altogether  produced  the  most  sensi- 
tive nervous  debility.  Perhaps  no  form  of  disease 
is  so  trying,  so  wearing  out  to  soul  and  body,  as  this 
last  mentioned.  But  if  there  were  never  any  sick, 
we  should  know  little  about  the  skill  of  the  physi- 
cian, or  the  value  of  his  remedies.  Even  so,  if  there 
were  no  sorrow  and  trouble  to  be  borne,  where  would 
be  the  test  of  our  Christian  graces  ?  In  my  suffer- 
ing companion,  grace  found  a  subject  wherein  to 
magnify  the  2>ower  and  mercy  of  God.  For  more 
than  a  year  sore  disease  and  extreme  pain  seemed 
to  be  letting  her  down,  step  by  step,  into  the  cold 
waves  of  Jordan.  The  pain  in  her  head  seemed  so 
to  derange  her  thoughts,  that  she  was  only  capable 
of  one  or  two  forms  of  ejaculatory  prayer,  such  as : 
"  Lord,  sanctify  this  affliction ;"  or,  "  Thy  will  be 
done."  Iler  nerves  were  so  sensitive  that  the  rattling 
of  a  newspaper  would  greatly  distress  her.  The  phy- 
sicians and  neighbours  thought  she  must  die,  but 
I  could  never  be  brought  to  believe  it.  There  was 
something  that  whispered  within  that  my  Susan 
would  yet  be  raised  up. 


LIKE  OF  0.  W.  HENRY. 


285 


My  neighboui-s  sometimes  amused  themselves 
with  what  they  considered  my  groundless  faith. 
Under  these  circumstances  I  one  day  ascended  the 
ladder  leading  to  the  garret  of  ray  cabin,  where  I 
had  just  room  to  kneel  down ;  and  if  any  man  on 
earth  ever  got  a  direct  answer  from  a  telegraph, 
I  think  I  received  one  from  the  throne  above  con- 
cerning my  wife.  When  I  came  down  stairs  I  told 
her  she  might  look  for  a  change  in  her  condition 
shortly. 

The  same  evening,  about  dark,  the  family  found 
her  speechless,  with  one  half  her  person,  from  head 
to  foot,  cold  and  stifi".  She  believed  herself  dying; 
and  as  she  reflected  that  she  -was  only  a  step  from 
the  kingdom  of  glory,  the  flood-gates  of  grace  were 
I'aised  upon  her  soul ;  and  though  she  had  not  been 
able  to  speak  a  loud  word  for  some  weeks,  she  now 
shouted,  "  Glory  !  glory  !  glory  !"  so  that  she  might 
have  been  lieard  in  the  streets.  Every  earthly  in- 
firmity seemed  to  be  swept  overboard  by  the  flood 
of  glory  which  poured  upon  her  in  copious  effusions. 
The  whole  room  seemed  to  be  lit  up  with  the  glory 
of  God. 

The  doctor  was  soon  called,  and  ordered  her  a 
little  wine.  She  replied  that  she  expected  soon  to 
drink  of  the  fruit  of  the  living  vine  in  her  Father's 
kingdom.  The  doctor  was  a  full-blooded  sceptic, 
and,  like  the  ancient  Pharisee,  had  never  seen  any- 
thing of  that  fashion  before.  Doubtless  he  little 
expected,  when  he  was  called  in  to  administer  medi- 


286  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

cine  to  his  j^atient,  to  have  an  exhortation  poured 
on  to  him ;  but  upon  liim  the  great  work  began, 
and  for  weeks  she  exhorted  saint  and  sinner  as  they 
daily  entered  her  room.  That  voice  and  throat 
which,  for  months  previous,  were  scarcely  able  to 
utter  a  word,  were  now  audible  and  strong. 

She  believed  that  she  had  now  received  the  ful- 
ness of  the  blessing  of  the  gospel  of  peace.  Grace 
had  loosed  the  last  earth-bound  tie,  and  she 
seemed  to  be  like  a  good  saint  who  took  her  pass- 
port to  glory  not  long  since.  Consumption  had 
gradually  consumed  her  until  her  feet  stood  in  the 
waters  of  Jordan.  Her  husband  and  six  children 
gathered  around  her  dying-couch  to  receive  her 
blessing,  and  gi\e  the  last  farewell.  She  first  threw 
her  arms  around  her  beloved  husband,  exhorted  him 
to  meet  her  in  heaven,  kissed  him,  and  gave  him  to 
God.  Then  taking  the  oldest  child,  and  from  him 
down  to  the  little  babe,  she  bade  them  all  farewell, 
and  left  them  in  the  hands  of  God ;  then  folding  up 
her  arms  and  closing  her  eyes,  she  said,  "Now  I 
have  nothing  to  do  but  die."  She  lay  still  and  silent 
for  a  few  moments,  when  a  sunbeam  of  glory 
seemed  to  illuminate  her  features,  and  she  clapped 
her  hands  and  shouted,  "They're  coming!  they're 
coming !  and  our  little  Willie  is  with  them,  and  0 
how  beautiful  he  looks !"  and  thus,  with  an  escort 
of  angels,  she  went  home. 

Mrs.  Henry  felt  that  she  had  nothing  to  do  but 
die.    Her  only  disappointment  was  that  slie  did  not 


LIFE  OF  Ci.  W.  IIENKV. 


287 


liear  tlie  niinbliiig  of  the  chariot  wheels  sent  to  bear 
her  rausonied  soul  to  mingle  with  the  company  of 
just  men  made  perfect.  Never  did  she  view  her- 
self as  nothing  but  dust  and  ashes  until  now.  She 
often  remarked  that  she  felt  like  a  little  worm 
crawling  upon  the  floor,  every  moment  subject  to 
be  crushed. 

I'ower  seemed  to  be  given  her  in  her  weakness, 
so  that  the  story  of  the  love  of  Jesus  to  sinnere,  and 
what  he  had  done  for  her  poor  soul,  seemed  to 
make  everything  quake.  She  seemed  to  have  been 
made  perfect  through  suffering.  She  had  gone  out 
of  herself,  and  was  hid  with  Christ  in  God.  At  this 
point,  I  discovered  that  she  had  passed  me  on  the 
race-course,  although  she  started  about  a  year  after 
me.  I  now  plainly  saw  her  some  distance  in  the 
advance  in  full  stretch  for  the  crown.  I  had  no  de- 
sire to  hold  her  by  the  skirt,  but  have  been  trying 
with  all  my  might  to  overtake  her.  But  if  I  do  not, 
I  still  say  to  her, 

"  If  you  get  there  before  I  do, 
Look  out  for  me,  I'm  coming  too." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

In  the  fall  of  1848,  Rev.  Jesse  Penfield  being  about 
to  close  up  his  labours  on  this  circuit,  liod  put  it  into 
his  iieart  to  raise  a  Methodist  chapel  in  Frankfort. 


•288 


TKIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


To  all  appearance  tliis  might  liave  staggered  the 
faith  of  Abraham ;  but  with  God  impossible  things 
become  possible.  The  attempt  was  made,  and  in 
February,  1849,  a  beautiful  brick  church  was  dedi- 
cated to  Almighty  God,  by  Rev.  B.  J.  Diefendorf,  then 
presiding  elder  on  that  district.  A  protracted 
meeting  was  then  commenced  in  the  Baptist  and 
Methodist  Churches.  The  battle  now  began  in  good 
earnest;  the  powers  of  darkness  gave  way,  and  a 
glorious  I'evival  followed  in  both  Churches.  Frank- 
fort in  a  measure  seemed  to  be  redeemed.  O  liow 
good  it  is  to  hold  on  to  the  arm  of  the  Lord  and 
wait  patiently  for  him !  The  blind  man's  cottage 
could  not  now  hold  a  tenth  pai-t  of  the  lovers  of 
prayer-meetings,  where,  for  six  years  previous,  they 
would  not  average  ten  persons,  including  all  denom- 
inations. I  was  deprived  of  hearing  the  dedication 
sermon,  as  duty  and  affection  kept  me  by  the  bed- 
side of  my  suffering  companion  ;  but  in- the  evening 
I  had  the  happiness  of  listening  to  brother  Wyatt. 

His  subject  was  the  great  feast  Avhicli  God 
had  prepared  for  the  souls  of  them  that  love  him. 
I  will  assure  you  I  opened  my  mouth  wide  as  the 
Lord  had  commanded  me,  and  my  soul  partook 
heartily  of  the  solids  as  well  as  the  fluids  that  faith 
saw  plainly  spread  out  before  me, — not  only  fat 
things  full  of  marrow,  but  wine  as  pure  and  efferves- 
cent as  that  drawn  from  the  water-pots  at  the  wed- 
ding in  Galilee.  As  I  arose,  after  the  sermon,  to 
express  my  gi'atitude  to  God  for  what  lie  hf\,d  done, 


LIFK  OF  (;.  W.  IIENKV 


289 


nnd  wliat  he  was  about  to  tlo  for  siiinei-s  in  Frank- 
tort,  I  took  so  largo  a  draught  of  this  wino  that 
1  reeled  and  fell  inuler  its  jiuwer;  and  1  have 
scarcely  drawn  a  sober  breath  since.  It  was  the 
same  kind  of  wine  that  the  disciples  drank  on  the 
<lay  of  Pentecost,  when  they  were  accused  by  the 
multitude  of  being  drunk.  Wine,  here,  is  a  symbol 
of  the  Holy  Sj)irit,  and  any  man  that  has  ever 
l)een  intoxicated  by  the  madeira  and  champagne 
of  this  world,  and  also  that  of  the  kingdom  of  grace, 
will  see  a  forcible  and  striking  similitude  between 
them.  It  is  with  shame  that  I  confess  that  I  have 
more  than  once  been  staggering  drunk  on  the  wine 
of  this  world.  But  I  rejoice  to  say  that  I  have  since 
that  time  drank  to  intoxication  of  that  which  flows 
from  Christ  the  living  vine.  Therefore  I  speak 
what  I  know  by  experience.  But  let  us  trace  the 
analogy  ;  and  to  make  it  plainer  permit  me  to  relate 
one  or  two  circumstances  of  my  shameful  experience 
while  dwelling  in  the  land  of  Egypt.  Wlien  I  was 
engaged  in  business  at  the  South,  and  esj^ecially 
on  the  Alleghany  Mountains,  it  was  a  custom  for  the 
lawyeis,  doctors,  engineers,  and  contractors,  and  a 
like  quality  falsely  called  gentlemen,  to  have  occa- 
sionally a  venison  dinner,  with  sumptuous  trim- 
ming-s  and  sparkling  wines.  You  see  now,  at  two 
o'clock,  twenty  fashionable  well-dressed  men,  who, 
fi'om  their  conversation  and  general  deportment, 
give  every  appearance  of  gentlemen  in  the  true 
sense  of  the  word.  Wo  will  now  olo-se  the  door 
If) 


•290  TKIAL8  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THF. 


upon  them,  ami  at  six  o'clock  we  again  look  into 
the  dining  room.  They  are  all  there ;  but  their  or- 
der and  decorum  lias  stepped  out,  and  confusion 
reigns  among  them.  One  man  is  standing  on  the 
table  spouting  Shakspeare ;  another  is  bragging  of 
his  wealth,  and  ostentatiously  displaying  his  bonds 
and  bank  notes ;  another  is  boasting  of  his  pedigree, 
his  noble  ancestry.  One  man  is  swearing  profanely : 
another  laughing,  ready  to  split  his  sides  at  every 
silly  remark  he  hears.  By  his  side,  his  fellow  is 
crying,  and  no  one  knows  or  cares  about  the  cause. 
One  of  the  number  is  dancing  as  merrily  as  a  lord ; 
while  at  his  feet  lies  one  as  insensible  as  a  mummy. 

You  wonder  as  you  glance  at  these  men,  in  the 
midst  of  broken  glasses  and  upset  tables,  and  ask 
tlie  liost  the  cause  of  tins  great  change  wrought 
in  them  in  the  short  space  of  four  hours.  He 
will  tell  you  that  they  were  under  the  influence  of 
wine,  that  is,  they  were  filled  with  the  spirit  of 
wine.  You  will  ask  him  again  the  occasion  of  the 
difierent  conduct  exhibited  in  different  individuals. 
He  will  perhaps  tell  you  that  the  wine  afiects  all 
people  equally,  but  no  two  alike;  and  that  the 
outward  demonstration  is  varied  according  to  the 
natural  bent  and  disposition  of  the  partaker. 

Reader,  please  take  my  arm,  and  go  with  me  to 
an  ancient  house  in  Jerusalem.  See  there  in  an 
upper  chamber  one  hundred  and  twenty  disciples, 
all  very  grave  and  sober  men  and  women.  Twelve 
of  them  are  the  chosen  apostles  of  Jesus.  Among 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


•291 


the  sistoi-s,  is  Maiy  the  mother  of  the  Saviour. 
Thev  are  quietly  praying  and  convei-sing  together. 
We  will  clo.sc  the  door,  and  after  three  hours,  or 
about  tlie  ninth  hour,  we  will  look  in  again  upon 
the  same  individuals.  How  are  they  now  ?  Are 
they  all  sitting  quietly  on  their  seats?  O,  no! 
there  was  a  noise,  and  that  so  great,  so  loud  and 
strange,  that  it  was  heard  throughout  the  city :  so 
that  a  great  multitude  of  the  curious  gathered  about 
the  doors,  as  they  have  often  done  on  similar  occa- 
sions. You  hear  now  not  only  one  individual,  but 
the  whole  congi-egation,  audibly  and  earnestly  talk- 
ing at  once,  and  in  fourteen  diftereut  languages,  and 
the  sacred  historian  tells  us  that  they  were  all  talking 
of  the  wonderful  works  of  God,  and  that  they  were 
all  filled  with  the  Holy  Gliost ;  or  he  might  have 
said  they  were  filled  with  the  wine  of  the  kingdom. 
As  it  was,  the  scoffing  multitude  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  they  were  all  drunk.  And  when  we 
turn  to  the  history  of  the  hist  century,  and  i-ead  of 
the  multitudes  that  sliouted,  reeled,  staggered,  and 
fell  to  the  ground  as  dead  men  under  the  preaching 
of  a  Wesley,  Fletcher,  Whitefield,  Christmas  Evans, 
Abbott,  and  others,  and  add  to  that  our  own  experi- 
ence and  observation  for  the  last  ten  years  at  camp- 
nieeting-s  and  other  places,  we  know  of  no  better 
conclusion  that  a  sober  dispassionate  imconverted 
multitude  could  arrive  at  than  to  say  they  were  all 
drunk ;  for  I  do  know  by  observation  and  experi- 
ence, that  the  outward  manifestations  of  the  two 


•J9'2  TRIALS  AND  TlUrMl'llA  IN  IIIK 

Iciiuls  of  wine  bear  a  striking  analooy ;  and  I  do 
not  wonder  that  tlie  prophets  and  the  apostles  made 
choice  of  wine  as  a  symbol  or  comparison  to  illus- 
trate the  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  But  Peter, 
standing  up,  denies  the  charge  of  their  being  drunk, 
and  then  goes  on  to  exjjlain  to  the  multitude  the 
cause  of  the  noise  and  seeming  confusion.  He 
might  have  said  it  was  estimate-day  or  pay-day; 
that  Jehovah  had  just  cashed  a  bond  which  he  had 
caused  to  be  executed  a  few  hundred  years  pre^-ious 
by  Jeremiah,  one  of  his  clerks ;  or,  in  the  language 
of  Scripture,  "I  will  pour  out  of  my  Spirit"  or 
wine  "  upon  my  servants  and  handmaids,  and  they 
shall  prophesy ;"  or,  in  other  words,  that  was  the 
f.  "t  day  when  more  than  three  thousand  new  bottles 
or  souls  should  be  filled  with  new  wine  or  the 
champagne  of  the  Idngdom. 

So,  my  dear  long-faced,  sober-sided,  foult-finding 
reader,  when  you  go  to  another  camp-meeting, 
where  five  hundred  of  God's  people  have  met 
together  with  one  accoi-d  in  one  place,  and  you  see 
them  all  upon  their  knees,  calling  upon  their 
heavenly  Host  that  they  may  be  filled  with  the 
Spirit,  do  not  be  surprised  if,  after  a  while,  you  see 
brother  Henry  leaping,  laughing,  and  falling  down ; 
another  shouting;  the  third  pointing  to  his  bonds 
and  mortgages  in  the  old  record,  and  telling  how 
l  ich  he  is ;  while  near  by  a  hoary-headed  old  father, 
with  patches  on  his  knees,  boasts  of  his  pedigi-ee, 
tracing  his  ancestry  liack  fi>  the  Ancient  of  Davs. 


LliK  OK  O.  \V.  IIENKV. 


producing  his  evidence  that  God  was  his  father  and 
Jesus  Christ  his  elder  brother.  At  a  little  distance 
j-ou  will  see  a  good  sister  melted  into  tenrs,  while  a 
hoh',  reverential  awe  broods  over  her  in  silence ;  by 
her  side  lies  one  insensible,  while  the  whole  five 
hundred  rejoice  together  in  hopes  of  the  glorj'  of 
God.  You  now  turn  and  ask  me  the  cause  of  all 
these  exhibitions  of  joj'  ?  Permit  me  to  answer  yon, 
in  the  language  of  your  bar-room  host :  "  They  are 
all  filled  with  tlie  Spirit." 

I  should  be  glad  if  I  had  space  to  make  a  few- 
selections,  backing  up  this  truth,  not  only  from 
sacred  histoiy,  but  also  from  the  history  of  the 
Church  dui-ing  modern  reformations.  But  I  must 
pass  them  by,  and  conclude  this  too  lengthy  cha])- 
ter  by  giving  you  two  recipes — one  that  will  efiec- 
lualh-  cure  you  from  fault-finding,  and  the  other  to 
cure  the  people  of  God  from  shouting.  They  are  a 
sovereign  remedy.  Perhaps  a  little  incident  in  my 
own  experience  may  better  convey  my  meaning. 
About  the  year  1836,  while  living  in  Franklin 
County,  Pa.,  business  placed  me  in  a  stage-coach  to 
go  to  Harrisburg,  a  distance  of  about  forty  miles. 
About  twelve  o'clock  at  night  the  driver  stopped  at 
a  hotel  in  the  village  of  Carlisle,  a  few  rods  from 
Dickinson  College.  While  changing  lioi  ses  I  roused 
from  a  stupor,  and  half-awake,  and  not  very  good- 
natured,  went  into  the  bar-room,  where  at  once  my 
cai-s  were  saluted  with  shouts,  song-s,  speechifying, 
loud  laughtei-,  and  not  a  little  systematical  swearing. 


204 


THIALfe  AKD  TKlLMrns  Ii\  THE 


The  noise  proceeded  from  ii  large  parlour  in  a  dis- 
tant part  of  the  hotel.  I  well  understood  the  cause. 
I  suppose  it  was  something  like  the  noise  that 
Moses  and  Joshua  heard,  as  they  came  down  from 
the  mountain,  from  a  certain  part}',  dancing  and 
sliouting  around  a  golden  calf.  But  I  had  not  been 
there  long  before  the  parlour-door  opened,  and  it 
\\  as  no  sooner  known  by  the  revellers  that  Captain 
llenr}'  was  in  the  house  than  a  fragment  of  the 
j>arty  caught  me  by  the  collar,  and,  in  spite  of  all 
expostulations,  precipitated  me  into  the  midst  of  a 
|>ai-ty  of  drunken  collegiates  and  other  like  com- 
jjanions.  Under  those  circumstances,  I  presume, 
!  felt  very  much  like  an  unconverted  man,  looking 
on,  while  the  power  of  God  is  displayed  like  a  tor- 
nado in  the  forest,  waving  one  tree  top  into  the 
arms  of  another,  and  occasionally  tearing  up  a 
stately  oak  by  the  roots,  biing-ing  it  headlong  to  the 
ground.  They  appeared  to  me  like  a  set  of  fools. 
Their  general  conversation  and  performance  seemed 
ridiculous  in  the  extreme.  The  stage  now  went  oft" 
without  me.  I  began  to  pour  down  the  wine,  and 
in  half  an  hour  I  could  laugh  and  make  speeches 
with  the  best  of  them.  I  saw  no  impropi-iety  in 
anything  that  was  going  on.  Here,  reader,  is  your 
I'ecipe.  When  you  get  tired  of  hearing  your  breth- 
ren shout,  hearken  to  the  invitation  of  the  proph- 
et, to  come  and  buy  this  wine,  and  let  your  soul 
delight  itself  with  its  delicious  hifluences.  Let  your 
soul  be  tilled  to  the  brim  with  this  i)Uie  wine  of  the 


LIFK  UK  (i.  W  .  1IHNK\  . 


295 


kingdom ;  aud  if  it  does  not  cure  your  croaking 
and  fault-finding  about  the  brethren  and  sisters 
shouting  and  making  such  a  noise  and  confusion, 
you  may  set  it  down  for  a  certainty  that  you  have 
not  a  genuine  article.  The  second  recipe  is  an 
effectual  cure  for  shouting,  leaping,  falling  with  the 
power,  &c.  Take  a  quantity  of  backbiting,  croak- 
ing, idle  words,  superfluity  of  dress,  anger,  self- 
righteousness,  mix  them  well  together  in  a  powder, 
and  wash  it  down  with  a  hearty  draught  of  rum, 
brandy,  or  whisky,  and,  my  word  for  it,  you  will 
not  be  troubled  with  spiritual  ecstasy.  But,  before 
I  close  this  subject,  I  wish  to  say  I  can  tell  the  read- 
er by  experience — by  sad  as  well  as  joyous  experience 
— that  the  consequences  resulting  from  the  use  of 
tiie  two  articles  are  as  unlike  as  heaven  and  hell. 

The  wine  of  this  world  leaves  a  man  with  a 
headache,  heartache,  remorse  and  rags,  and  the 
finger  of  God  hath  written,  "No  drunkard  shall 
inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  Consequently,  the 
undying  soul  will  dwell  forever  in  eternal  darkness 
with  distillers,  rumsellers,  hypocrites,  dogs  and 
sorcerers,  and  every  species  of  e^'il-doers.  While 
the  wine  tliat  flows  freely  from  Christ,  the  living 
vine,  will  give  peace,  like  a  river,  and  the  ultimate 
boon  will  be  glory,  honour,  immortality  and  eternal 
life  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  One  will  pro- 
cure for  you  the  torments  of  hell,  the  other  the  rest 
of  heaven.  Readei',  the  two  cups  are  before  you. 
May  (iod  iielp  you  to  make  a  wise  choice.  Amen. 


296  TKIALS  AND   IHlLMi'llS  IN  THE 


"GOOD  MORNING,  BROTHER  PILGRIM  I" 

17(6  following  is  the  substance  of  a  conversation  between  tico 
professors  as  they  met;  one  going  to,  the  oth4:r  returning  front, 
mmp-meeting,  early  in  the  morning. 

"  Good  morning,  brother  pilgrim  ! 

Wliat,  marching  to  Zion  ? 
What  doubts  and  what  dangers  have  j  ou  met  to-day  ? 

Have  yon  found  a  blessing? 

Are  your  joys  increasing? 
Press  forward,  my  brother,  and  make  no  delay. 

Is  your  heart  a  glowing  ? 

Are  your  comforts  flowing  ? 
And  have  you  an  evidence  now  bright  and  clear  .' 

Have  you  a  desire 

That  burns  like  a  fire  ? 
And  have  hope  in  the  hour  when  Christ  sluill  appear?" 

"  I  came  out  this  morning. 

And  now  am  returning, 
Perhaps  little  better  than  when  I  first  came  ; 

Such  groaning  and  shouting, 

It  sets  me  to  doubting, 
I  fear  such  religion  is  all  like  a  dream. 

The  preachers  were  stamping, 

The  iieople  were  jumping, 
.\nd  screaming  so  loud  that  I  neither  could  hear 

Either  praying  or  i)reaching  ; 

Such  hon-ible  screeching, 
'T  was  truly  offensive  to  all  that  i\ere  there." 

"  Perhaps,  my  dear  brother. 

While  they  pray'd  together, 
You  sat  and  consider'd,  and  pray'd  not  at  all ; 

Would  you  find  a  blessing  ? 

Then  pray  irithmil  catsiiig. 
Obey  the  advice  w'hich  was  given  by  Paul. 


Hit:  Of  U.  W.  llEMtV. 


297 


For  if  you  should  reason 

At  any  such  season, 
No  wonder  if  Satan  should  tell  in  your  eai- ; 

'  The  preachers  and  people 

Are  all  but  a  rabble, 
And  this  is  no  place  for  reflection  and  prayer.'  " 

"  '  Ko  jilace  for  i-fjicction  ." 

I'm  fiU'J  with  distraction, 
I  wonder  the  people  could  bear  for  to  stay  ; 

The  men  they  were  bawling, 

The  women  were  squalling, 
1  wonder,  for  my  part,  how  any  could  pray. 

Such  hon-id  confusion, 

If  this  be  religion, 
Sure  it  is  something  new  that  has  never  been  seen  , 

For  the  sacred  pages 

AVhich  speak  of  all  ages. 
Do  nowhere  declare  that  such  ever  lias  been."' 

"  Don't  be  so  soon  shaken ; 

If  I 'm  not  mistaken, 
Such  things  have  been  acted  by  Chi'istiaus  of  old : 

AVhen  the  ark  it  was  coming, 

ICing  David  came  running, 
And  danced  before  it,  in  Scripture  we're  told. 

When  the  Jewish  nation 

Had  laid  the  foundation, 
-Vnd  rebuilt  the  temple,  by  Ezra's  command, 

Some  wept  and  some  praised, 

Such  a  noise  there  was  raised, 
'Twas  heard  afar  off,  perhaps  all  through  the  land. 

"  And  as  for  the  preacher, 

Ezekiel  the  teacher 
Was  taught  for  to  stamp,  and  smite  with  his  hand ; 

To  show  the  transgression 

Of  that  wicked  nation. 
And  bid  thcni  n-pent  and  obey  the  command. 


298  TKIALS  AND  TKILMFHS  IN  THE 


For  Scripture  quotation 

In  this  dispensation, 
Our  gi-acious  Redeemer  has  handed  them  down  ; 

If  some  ceased  from  praising, 

We  hear  him  proclaiming. 
The  stones  to  reprove  them  would  quickly  cry  out." 

"  Then  Scripture  is  wrested  ; 

For  Paul  has  protested 
That  order  should  be  kept  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  ; 

Amidst  such  a  clatter 

Who  knows  what's  the  matter  ? 
Or  w  ho  can  attend  unto  what  is  declared  ? 

To  see  them  behaving 

Like  drunkards  or  raving, 
A)id  lying  and  rolling  prostrate  on  the  ground  ; 

I  really  felt  awful. 

And  sometimes  was  fearful 
That  I 'd  be  the  next  to  come  tumbling  down." 

"  You  fear  persecution, 

And  there's  the  delusion. 
Brought  in  by  the  devil  to  draw  you  away ; 

Be  careful,  my  brother, 

For  blest  are  none  other 
But  such  as  are  never  offended  in  me." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

'J'liE  Sirring  of  1849  foiuid  my  prospects,  temporal 
and  spiritual,  briglitenino;.  I  still  continued  selling- 
books.  My  wife's  health  continuing  feeble,  we 
broke  up  keeping  house,  she  going  to  Litchfield  to 
board  with  her  children,  and  I  to  New-York  to  at- 


LIFE  OK  Ci.  W.  HE.SKV.  '209 

tend  the  great  book-auction.  One  Sabbath  morn- 
ing while  in  New- York,  I  went  to  the  Blind  In- 
stitute. I  wjxs  not  a  stranger  to  them,  for  I  had 
been  there  the  year  before  with  the  little  book  con- 
taining the  history  of  my  life.  The  superintendent 
])urchased  one,  and  it  was  read  to  the  pupils  gener- 
ally, so  that  by  this  time  we  felt  like  old  acquaint- 
ances, and,  I  presume,  I  shall  never  forget  in  time 
or  eternity  the  glorious  class-meeting  I  had  the  first 
Sabbath  I  had  the  happiness  of  meeting  with  those 
labouring  under  like  infirmities  with  myself.  The 
class  met  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning.  There 
were  about  thirty  pei'sons  present,  including  various 
denominations.  They  were  in  a  square  room,  with 
a  row  of  benches  around  the  wall.  I  was  requested 
to  lead  the  class.  I  presume  I  have  been  called 
U2)on  to  lead  nearly  one  hundred  difl'erent  classes, 
and  I  do  not  believe  that  I  e\  er  led  a  class  that  had 
so  fair  a  view  of  the  eternal  city  as  this.  Class  was 
opened  by  two  or  three  fervent  prayers,  and  then  they 
struck  up,  "  Come,  thou  Fount  of  every  blessing," 
and  there  was  so  much  spirit  and  glory  in  it  that  it 
seemed  as  if  I  had  never  heard  it  before.  The  music 
of  a  score  of  Jenny  Linds  w-ould  have  sounded  flat 
in  comparison  with  this  spiritual  choir.  The  blind 
inmates  had  all  been  well  instructed  in  singing, 
from  the  little  child  to  the  adult.  When  the  time  of 
pn-aching  came,  if  ever  I  was  prcjjared  to  let  down 
the  gospel-net,  it  was  tlien.  There  w  as  quite  a  con- 
coiii-se  of  people  from  the  city,  and.  a.s  they  all  arose 


300 


TKIALS  AND  THIUMPUS  IN  XltE 


to  siug,  in  unison  with  their  tremendous  organ,  one 
might  ahnost  be  persuaded  that  the  choir  whicli  the 
revelator  saw  had  descended  from  above,  the  num- 
ber of  which  was  "  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
and  thousands  of  thousands."  It  was  evident,  how- 
ever, that  it  was  not  the  song  of  the  angehc  band ; 
for  while  the  angels  sing,  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb 
tliat  was  slain,"  the  poor,  the  lame,  the  halt,  and  the 
blind  sing  on  the  higher  key:  "Unto  him  that 
k)ved  us,  and  hath  redeemed  us  to  God  by  his  blood 
out  of  every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people,  and 
nation,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests;  and  we 
shall  reign  on  the  earth."  This  text,  with  all  its  glo- 
lious  and  exalted  privileges,  I  once  placed  beyond 
Jordan  ;  but  since  I  came  into  the  land  of  Beulah, 
faith  has  brought  it  over  on  this  side,  and  I  am  now 
preaching,  singing,  and  living,  every  sentence  and 
syllable,  through  rich  abounding  grace.  If  we  are 
not  to  sing  the  song  of  redemption  this  side  of  Jor- 
dan, I  fear  we  shall  never  sing  it.  If  we  are  not  to 
reign  as  kings  and  priests  on  the  earth — that  is,  put 
every  spiritual  foe  under  our  feet — I  fear  w'e  shall 
never  do  it.  Glory  be  to  God !  the  door  of  heaven 
is  opened,  and  the  heavenly  treasure  unlocked  to 
our  vicAV  while  here  on  earth.  One  would  supjwse 
the  very  music  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  God 
would  be  enough  to  win  every  soul  to  Christ. 

But  there  are  men  that  will  give  hundreds  of 
dollars  for  a  ticket  to  a  Jeuny-Lind  concert,  that 
would  not  bend  the  knee  to  Christ  for  a  ticket  that 


LIFE  OF  (i.  \V.  IlESIiV. 


301 


vvoultl  place  in  tlioir  hands  a  golden  harp,  and  give 
them  a  seat  with  heaven's  choir  at  God's  right 
hand.  0  Lord,  pity  them  that  are  so  blind  to  tlieir 
own  happiness !  I  am  reminded  here  of  a  little  cir- 
cumstance that  occurred  not  long  since.  I  liad 
often  thought  that  I  would  like  to  procure  one  of 
David's  harps,  and  learn  to  play  on  it,  supposing  it 
would  cost  about  fifty  dollars.  It  so  happened  that 
a  company  of  musicians,  who  had  one  of  these 
harps,  put  up  for  the  night  in  my  neighbourhood. 
I  went  over  and  incpiired  the  price  of  one,  and  was 
told  it  would  cost  from  three  to  five  hundred  dollars. 
This  decided  the  matter  that  I  should  never  have 
one  on  earth ;  but  that  moment  the  Spirit  raised  up 
IV  standard,  and  encouragingly  said,  "  Child,  your 
Father  lias  got  a  golden  harp  laid  up  for  you  in 
glory;"  and  faith  seemed  to  lend  her  realizing 
sight,  so  that  I  could  almost  lay  my  hand  upon  it. 
My  soul  at  once  filled  up  with  glory ;  and,  as  I  con- 
trasted the  two  hai-ps,  the  heavenly  one  looked  so 
glorious  that  it  made  the  earthly  one  appear  of  as 
little  value  as  a  child's  whistle. 

Let  us  seek  the  things  that  are  above,  for  it  is 
our  privilege  to  have  the  glorious  city  plainly  in 
view  as  we  journey  through  this  vale  of  tears.  But 
let  lis  go  back  to  the  Blind  Institute.  My  subject 
was  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  when  these  earthly 
houses,  with  every  window  destroyed,  and  walls 
dilapidated  and  ruined  by  the  fall,  should  be  raised 
glorioles  ill  holiness  and  divinely  beautiful,  as  it  is 


302  TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 

written :  "  Beliold  he  cometli  witli  clouds,  and  every 
eye  shall  see  liini,  and  they  also  which  pierced  him." 
"  Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be,  but  we  know  that 
when  he  shall  appear  we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we 
shall  see  him  as  he  is."  What  a  glorious  and 
heart-cheering  subject  for  a  blind  preacher  to  hold 
up  to  a  blind  audience  !  "  O,  my  soul,  be  not  cast 
down  ;  hope  thou  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him 
who  is  the  light  of  ray  countenance  and  my  chief 
joy !"  In  my  intercourse  Avith  the  poor  and  the 
blind,  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  liiat  the  poet 
was  not  extravagant  when  he  said, 

"  Earth  has  no  sorrows  that  Heaven  cannot  cure." 

It  is  but  a  few  hours  since  an  unbelieving,  but  kind- 
hearted  man,  after  bestowing  upon  me  a  small 
favour,  expressed  his  cheerfulness  to  do  so  as  he 
looked  upon  my  infirmities,  remarking  at  the 
same  time  that  he  supposed  if  I  had  a  million  of 
dollars  I  would  give  it  for  the  restoration  of  my 
sight.  I  made  no  reply ;  but  I  certainly  did  think 
then,  as  I  think  now,  that  I  would  not  stand  in  his 
shoes,  or  those  of  any  other  unbelieving  man  in  spirit- 
ual blindness,  twenty-four  hours,  for  one  million  of  dol- 
lars, and  run  the  dreadful  hazard  of  being  suddenly 
called  to  settle  my  great  account.  So  there  was 
sympathy  on  both  sides.  Before  taking  leave  of 
my  blind  companions,  I  wish  to  relate  a  word  or 
two  concerning  their  Sabbath  school.    At^  three 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


303 


t)'clock  in  tlie  afternoon,  one  hundred  and  tbirty-fivo 
toachers  and  pupils  met  to  engage  in  reading,  re- 
citing, and  explaining  the  Bible;  and  little  blind 
children  not  six  years  of  age  knew  moi'e  about  the 
Bible  than  I  did  at  forty.  Humiliatmg  as  is  this 
confession,  no  doubt  there  are  thousands  now  strut- 
ting in  their  silks  and  broadcloths  totally  ignorant 
of  themselves,  their  Bible,  and  their  God.  Here  is 
a  blindness  that  may  be  felt;  while  heaven  and 
glory  shine  around  the  pathway  of  thousands  that 
are  naturally  blind,  but,  having  an  eye  single  to  the 
glory  of  God,  their  whole  body  is  full  of  light.  They 
are  children  of  the  day,  and  they  have  no  occasion 
for  stumbling.  So  farewell,  my  blind  companion.s, 
till  we  hail  each  other  on  the  banks  of  the  promised 
land,  and  sing  hallelujah  to  God  for  tree  grace ! 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 

In  the  above  chapter  you  recollect  tliat  I  told  you 
of  my  engagedness  in  selling  books  here.  I  began 
to  tremble,  fearing  that  through  the  deceitfulness  of 
gain,  thorns  and  briei-s  might  spring  up  in  the  garden 
of  my  soul,  and  choke  the  precious  fruit.  But  God 
gave  me  strength  according  to  my  day,  and  I  was 
enabled  to  keep  the  world  in  its  right  place.  I 
endeavoured  to  take  up  every  cross,  warning  and 
exhorting  every  man  that  T  had  any  dealing  with. 


;304  TRIALS  AND  TUIUMl'IIS  IN  TIIK 

and  seeking  to  spread  Scriptural  holiness  over  the 
land,  jvhile  a  door  of  utterance  was  opened  every 
Sabbath  for  me  to  preach  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  Christ.  About  this  time  Charles  Weudall,  a  little 
boy  of  thirteen  that  I  employed  to  lead  me,  was 
converted  to  God,  in  a  powerful  class-meeting  at 
l)rother  Benjamin  Harter's.  I  think  I  never  saw  a 
clearer  or  sounder  conversion.  This  was  the  third 
boy  that  had  been  converted  while  leading  me. 
This  was  a  glorious  )  ear  to  my  soul.  Mrs.  Henry 
was  at  this  time  boarding  at  brother  Champion's,  in 
Litchfield.  You  will  recollect  the  account  given  in 
a  former  chapter  of  her  sickness,  and  the  display  of 
God's  power  in  bestowing  upon  her  the  fulness  of 
the  blessing  of  the  gospel  of  peace.  Her  infirmities 
were  still  pei-petuated,  so  that  from  that  time  she 
has  been  in  a  very  feeble  *tate.  But  as  the  apostle 
exhorts  us  to  sanctify  the  Lord  God  in  our  hearts, 
and  be  ready  always  to  give  eveiy  man  that  asks 
us  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  us  with  meekness 
and  fear,  we  will  let  sister  Henry  speak  for  herself, 
by  inserting  here  a  diary  of  two  or  three  weeks,  kept 
until  her  health  failed,  and  she  was  obliged  to  lay 
down  the  pen.  This,  perhaps,  will  be  a  fair  sample 
of  her  faith  and  its  effects  down  to  the  present  time. 

July  8th. — I  have  been  able  to  rejoice  to-day  in 
the  God  and  Rock  of  my  salvation.  This  morning 
I  conversed  with  a  sister,  whose  heart  is  panting' 
after  holiness.  Tried  to  give  her  some  light ;  told 
her  how  the  Lord  had  led  me  nut  into  the  ocean  of 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  HENRY. 


305 


his  love,  and  that  I  now  felt  as  if  swimming  in  a 
flood  of  glory.  As  I  was  conversing  with  her  she 
was  sent  for.  She  gave  me  a  pressing  invitation  to 
come  and  see  her,  as  she  wanted  to  learn  more  abont 
this  highway  of  holiness,  and  requested  an  interest 
in  my  prayers.  I  lent  her  a  book  on  holiness, 
praying  that  God  would  bless  her  in  reading  it, 
and  let  her  into  the  liberty  of  the  gospel.  This 
evening  called  to  see  a  stranger,  who  is  not  a  professor 
of  religion.  ^Mien  I  stepped  over  the  threshold 
of  the  door,  I  prayed  that  God  would  direct  me  to 
warn  her  to  flee  fi-om  the  wrath  to  come.  In  reply 
to  my  inquiries  she  remarked  that  she  had  thought 
some  upon  the  subject,  and  would  try  to  get  out 
to  church. 

My  aim  and  object  is  to  be  of  some  use  while  I 
stay  here  below ;  and  I  i>ray  God  that  I  may  ever 
let  my  light  shine,  and  never  seek  to  conceal  what 
great  thiug-s  God  has  done  for  me. 

July  Qth. — Had  a  good  time  in  secret  prayer ; 
felt  the  whispering  of  the  Spirit  bearing  witness  with 
mine  that  I  was  a  child  of  God  and  an  heir  of 
lieaven.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  for  faith, 
which  is  an  anchor  to  the  soul,  both  sure  and  stead- 
fast, that  entereth  within  the  veil. 

July  lOth. — Have  had  a  good  day;  feel  that 
Christ  reigns  without  a  rival.  Blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord  for  this  highway  of  hohness,  cast  up 
for  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  to  walk  in.  Felt 
humbled  in  the  dust  this  evening  while  convei-sing 


306 


TRIALS  AKD  TlULMl'HS  IN  XHJS 


with  a  Methodist  exhorter,  who  professes  sanctifica- 
tioii.  >  I  told  him  of  my  enjoyments — that  I  felt  as 
■willing  to  sufter  with  Christ  as  to  reign  with  him. 
lie  said  he  thought  I  enjoyed  more  of  a  fulness 
than  he  did.  Instead  of  lifting  me  up  it  humbled 
uic  in  the  dust.    O  that  the  Lord  may  keep  me, — 

"Low  down  iu  this  beautiful  valley, 
Where  love  crowns  the  meek  and  the  lowly— 
Where  loud  storms  of  envy  and  folly 
May  roll  on  their  billows  in  vain." 

Jahj  nth. — Feel  a  peace  this  morning,  and  my 
prayer  is,  that  love  may  ever  drive  my  chariot  wheels. 
Satan  laboureth  in  nothing  more  than  to  keep  us 
in  unbelief,  especially  of  particular  promises ;  for  lie 
knows  if  we  beheve  them  we  shall  in  all  things  have 
the  victory.  Let  us  come  before  God  with  boldness, 
claiming  every  promise  as  ours.  O  the  abundance 
of  sweet  cordial  comfort  which  all  humble  believers 
draw  by  faith  out  of  every  promise  ! 

Juhj  \2tli. — Feel  weak  in  body,  but  the  soul  feels 
strong  in  the  God  and  Rock  of  my  salvation.  I 
know  that  whenever  this  earthen  vessel  is  dashed  to 
pieces  my  soul  has  a  home  in  heaven.  I  feel  this 
morning  that  I  can  read  my  title  clear  to  mansions 
in  the  sky.  0  how  inspiring  it  is  to  look  away  to 
that  blessed  country,  and  think  of  the  society  we 
shall  have  there !  There  are  the  holy  angels,  the 
blessed  pi'ophets,  the  triumphant  apostles,  the  vic- 
torious martyrs,  and  all  the  host  of  the  redeemed; 
these  will  be  my  Lonii)Hnious  forever.    I,  even  I, 


LIFK  OF  Ci.  \V.  UK.NHV. 


:307 


shall  mount  the  upper  sky,  having  on  a  robe  of 
righteousness,  with  the  palm  of  victory  in  my  hand, 
and,  as  I  cast  my  glittering  crown  at  the  feet  of  my 
Redeemer,  there  shall  be  a  golden  harp  given  me, 
and  I  shall  be  permitted  to  join  with  the  heavenly 
host  in  glorifying  God  and  singing,  Hallelujah !  the 
Lord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth.  Blessing,  honour, 
glory,  and  power  be  unto  him  that  sitteth  tipon  the 
tlirone  and  unto  the  Lamb  forever ! 

July  \Ztli. — I  feel  like  calling  upon  all  within 
me  to  praise  and  adore  the  name  of  the  Lord.  The 
prayer  of  my  heart  is,  that  I  may  be  ever  clothed 
with  humility ;  for  God  resisteth  the  proud,  but 
gi\  eth  grace  to  the  humble. 

"  A  broken  heart,  my  God  and  King, 
Is  all  the  sacritice  I  bring  ; 
The  God  of  grace  will  ne'er  despise 
A  broken  heart  for  sacrifice." 

Jidij  loth. — Feel  that  Jesus  is  mine,  and  I  am 
his ;  went  up  to  the  house  of  the  Lord  yesterday,  anil 
heard  brother  Jerome  preach  his  farewell  sermon. 
The  text  was  in  2  Corinthians  xiii,  11:  "Finally, 
brethren,  farewell.  Be  perfect,  be  of  good  comfort, 
be  of  one  mind,  live  in  peace ;  and  tlie  God  of  love 
and  peace  shall  be  with  you."  Had  a  glorious  time ; 
tlie  Lord  was  there.  Two  sisters  were  struggling 
for  the  blessing  of  perfect  love.  One  said  she  felt 
as  if  she  could  almost  touch  the  hem  of  Christ's 
garment,  but  unbelief  seemed  to  keep  them  both 
away.    My  prayer  is,  that  the  Lord  may  beat  back 


308 


TRIALS  AND  TKILMI'IIS  IN  TllK 


the  power  of  unbelief  and  let  tlieni  into  perfect 
liberty. 

July  I6ih. — After  retiring  to  rest  last  night  was 
favoured  with  an  extraordinary  display  of  divine 
grace.  I  felt  to  rejoice  that  the  Lord  reigned, 
that  Jesus  was  exalted  fiir  above  principalities  md 
powers.  This  morning  am  very  weak  in  body,  but 
feel  that  I  can  do  all  things  th,roug]i  Christ,  who 
sti'engtlieneth  me. 

"  I  can  do  all  things,  or  can  bear 
All  suiFerings  if  my  Lord  be  there  ; 
Sweet  pleasure  mingles  with  the  pains, 
While  his  right  hand  my  head  sustains." 

0  what  a  blessed  thing  it  is  to  lose  our  will  in 
( Jod's !  Since  I  lost  my  will  I  have  found  happiness. 
Inhere  can  be  no  such  thing  as  disappointment  to  me, 
for  I  have  no  desire  but  that  God's  will  may  be 
accomplished.    Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord ! 

Juli/  llih. — I  feel  to  rejoice  this  morning  with 
joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.  O  liow  sweet 
it  is  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus !  Li  his  presence  is 
fulness  of  joy ;  at  his  right  hand  there  are  pleasures 
forever  more.  For  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die 
is  gain. 

"  He  bids  his  angels  pitch  their  tents 

Bound  where  his  children  dwell ; 
What  ills  their  heavenly  care  prevents 

No  earthly  tongue  can  tell." 

Juh/  I8th. — I  feel  that  if  I  live  for  God  nothing 
shall  be  lost.  I  shall  have  full  measure,  pressed 
down  and  running  ovei'.    Thousands  of  years  in 


1.1  FIC  OK  (.'.  W.  IIF.NKV. 


;509 


paradise  for  tlie  least  good  tlioiiglit,  and  tlioiisaiids 
"f  thousands  for  the  least  good  word  ;  and  the 
i-eckoning  shall  begin  again,  for  I  shall  be  swallowed 
up  in  a  blessed  eternity,  and  the  door  of  heaven 
shall  be  shut  upon  me,  and  there  stall  be  no  more 
going  out. 

Thus  ends  this  short  diary  of  a  feeble  woman, 
walking  and  talking  with  God,  Enoch-like,  having 
the  testimony  that  she  pleased  God,  and  in  this 
uiio  point  is  embraced  the  great  duty  of  religion, 
that  we  please  God,  and  not  ourselves  or  our  fellow- 
inen.  Such  a  soul  is  truly  travelling  in  the  land  of 
Heulah,  like  a  youthful  bride  rejoicing  in  the  smiles 
of  the  bridegroom  as  she  leans  upon  his  almighty 
arm,  decked  with  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and 
<juiet  spirit,  whicli,  in  the  sight  of  the  bridegi-oom, 
is  of  great  value.  Do  not  imagine,  reader,  that  sister 
Henry  had  no  fieiy  trials.  If  she  sliould  write  the 
history  of  every  day  from  that  period  up  to  the 
present,  some  of  them  would  be  well  described  in 
the  language  of  the  Psalmist :  "  Deep  ealleth  unto 
deep ;  all  thy  water-spouts  have  gone  over  me." 

Yet  she  could  say  with  the  i")oet : — 

"  In  time  of  fear,  when  trouble 's  near, 

I  look  to  thine  abode ; 
Though  helpers  fail  and  foes  prevail, 

I  '11  put  my  trust  in  God. 

"  In  darkest  skies,  though  storms  arise, 

I  will  not  be  dismay'd  ; 
O  God  of  light  and  boundless  might, 

My  soul  on  thee  is  stay'd." 


310 


TKtALS  Xyu  iltlLMl'IlS  !N  THK 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

I  HAVE  already  spun  out  a  much  longer  thread  in 
this  supplementary  narrative  than  I  at  first  con- 
templated ;  but  I  feel  now  as  I  do  sometimes  after 
having  preached  an  hour.  The  harvest-field  seems 
to  wave  as  the  wind  of  the  Spirit  blows  upon  it,  as 
if  to  beckon  me  on  ;  and  I  think  I  would  like  to  cut 
another  swath  around  the  field,  and  gather  a  few 
more  sheaves  and  bind  them  up  for  the  barns  of 
Iieaven,  before  I  lay  down  the  sickle.  Even  so 
when  I  would  lay  down  the  pen,  I  have  before  me 
llie  last  two  years  of  my  life,  more  glorious  than 
:ill  the  rest. 

It  is  true  that  the  way  of  holiness  grows  narrower 
anil  brighter;  and  the  farther  we  travel  in  it,  the 
more  our  happiness  increases.  In  the  course  of  my 
narrative,  you  have  been  with  me  to  a  great  many 
camp-meetings.  I  was  justified  and  sanctified  at  a 
camp-meeting,  and  if  it  is  the  will  of  God  I  should 
like  to  die  on  a  camp-gronnd.  Where  could  I  find 
a  better  place  to  lay  down  my  armour  and  take  up 
my  crown  ?  Yet  if  it  is  the  will  of  God  I  had  rather 
tarry  a  few  years,  that  I  may  preach  the  gospel  to 
the  poor  and  forsaken.  Probably  more  than  half 
my  labours,  for  the  last  few  years,  have  been  at  the 
\  arious  county  poor-houses ;  and  I  do  believe  this 
(l.'iy,  should  death  overtake  me,  that  if  I  liave  any 
honest  and  sincere  friends,  who  would  plant  a  rose 


I.IFE  OF  Ci.  \V.  IIH.NUV.  ."{11 

upon  my  grave,  and  mourn  that  I  was  gone,  it 
would  be  some  of  my  brethren  and  sisters  from 
the  poor-house. 

This  would  be  a  greater  satisfaction  to  me  than 
to  receive  the  salary  of  a  rich  and  worldly  congicga- 
tion,  who  are  saying  within  themselves,  like  an 
ancient  backslidden  Church,  "I  am  increased  in 
goods  and  have  need  of  nothing." 

I  have  often  heard  people  remark,  "  What  a  pity 
that  the  county  does  not  make  some  provision  to 
pay  for  preaching  the  gospel  to  the  poor."  Dear 
reader,  there  are  provisions  made,  and  a  fund  set 
apart  by  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  for  superior 
to  any  earthly  treasure. 

My  custom  has  been  to  go  on  Saturday  night, 
have  a  prayer-meeting  and  a  word  of  exhortation, 
and  on  Sabbath  morning,  immediately  after  breakfiist, 
pass  through  all  the  rooms,  and  pray  with  the  sick 
and  the  cripples.  This  will  generally  take  about 
two  hours.  Then  we  have  a  semion  and  class- 
meeting  in  the  forenoon,  preaching  and  prayer- 
meeting  in  the  afternoon  and  evening,  maldng  about 
nine  houi-s  of  sweet  labour  in  preaching  and  praying, 
exhorting  and  singing.  How  glorious  is  the  rest  of 
those  who  labour  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord !  how 
smooth  the  pillow,  how  delightful  the  night  vision  ! 

Then  in  the  morning  to  pray  with  them  and  take 
an  affectionate  farewell,  reminds  one  of  the  brethren 
weeping  on  the  neck  of  Paul  as  he  wa.s  about  to  go 
to  Jerusalem. 


.'{12  IRIAI.S  AND  TliU  Ml'lIS  IX  THE 

Tlie  blessings  of  the  poor,  mingled  with  tlie  smiles 
of  God,  are  salary  enougli  for  me.  I  think  I  now 
fully  luiderstand  what  the  apostle  means  by  "  being 
pool',  yet  making  many  rich ;  as  having  nothing, 
yet  possessing  all  things."  I  should  like  to  tell  you 
of  some  of  the  glorious  scenes,  the  shouts  of  triumph 
that  we  have  had  at  the  poor-house. 

If  a  stranger  were  passing  by  he  would  suppose, 
and  rightly  too,  that  the  prodigal  had  got  home. 
There  is  the  poor  mourner,  trembling  perhaps  over 
a  drunkard's  grave;  and  the  saint  shouting  glory 
to  God,  rejoicing  even  in  tribulation,  having  a 
blessed  hope  of  heaven,  and  looking  for  the  glorious 
appearing  of  her  God  and  Saviour.  The  first  time 
T  visited  the  poor-house  I  was  led  up  to  the  bedside 
of  "  Granna  Taylor."  She  was  ninety-eight  yeai-s 
old,  blind,  and  nearly  deaf.  By  putting  my  mouth 
close  to  her  ear  and  speaking  loud,  she  could  hear  me. 
When  I  introduced  myself  to  her  as  a  blind 
2")reacher,  her  soul  seemed  to  take  fire  at  once. 

I  asked  her  if  she  knew  anything  about  Jesus  of 
Nazareth.  She  clapped  her  bony  liauds  together 
and  said,  "Yes,  glory  to  God!  ho  is  my  Saviour. 
He  converted  my  soul  seventy-two  years  ago,  and 
he  lias  supported  me  ever  since  by  his  grace.  When 
all  my  earthly  friends  forsook  me,  he  came  with 
mo  to  the  poor-house,  and  hath  comforted  me  here. 
O  how  I  love  Jesus,  and  long  to  be  with  him!" 
During  the  seven  years  that  I  preached  there  it 
was  pay  enough  for  going  twelve  miles  to  have 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIESKV. 


313 


the  privilege  of  pouring  a  prayer  into  her  ear,  and 
hearing  her  shouts  of  praise  as  she  loaded  the 
luimble  messenger  with  blessings  and  thanks- 
gi\ing.  The  last  time  I  saw  her  she  had,  as 
usual,  her  sorrows  as  well  as  her  joys  to  tell  me. 
She  had  several  hymns  that  she  loved  to  sing, 
and  portions  of  Scripture,  learned  before  she 
was  Wind,  that  she  was  in  the  habit  of  repeating. 
But  she  said  of  late  when  she  began  to  sing 
some  one  would  come  and  slap  her  in  the  face. 
Before  I  saw  her  again  she  had  gone  to  a  counti'y 
wliere  there  are  no  poor-houses,  and,  blessed  be  God  ! 
no  wicked  to  molest  the  saints  of  God.  Sing  on, 
Granna  Taylor,  and  by-and-by  I  will  join  you  where 
the  deaf  ear  is  unstopped  and  the  wicked  cease  fi-om 
troubling.  We  might  relate  many  incidents  of  the 
aged  and  crippled  lovers  of  Jesus  who  have  been 
carried  by  angels  to  Abraham's  bosom,  but  we  have 
not  room  to  do  so.  Great  God !  what  must  the 
angels  think  to  see  a  poor-master  drive  to  the  door 
of  some  wretched  hovel,  and  take  one  of  Jesus's 
brothei-s  and  cany  him  to  the  poor-house.  Suppose 
that,  on  his  way  there,  he  halts  in  front  of  a  splendid 
mansion,  its  windows  hung  with  rich  and  splendid 
tapestry,  its  rooms  luxuriously  furnished  with 
mahogany  sofas  and  rose-wood  pianos,  its  floors 
covered  with  soft  caq^eting,  its  wardrobes  crowded 
with  silks  and  costly  broadcloths,  its  tables  adorned 
with  massive  silver,  and  presenting  e\'ery  tempting 
variety  gathered  from  all  quarters  of  the  globe,  its 


314  I'RIALS  ANlJ  TRILMIMI^;  IN  THE 

inmates  carrying  a  small  fortune  upon  their  persons ; 
the  pauper  in  the  cart,  in  his  rags  and  wretchedness, 
ventures  to  ask  the  poor-master  who  lives  there, 

and  is  told  that  brother  and  sister  A.,  of  the  

Churchy  live  there — excellent  people.  The  poor 
man,  maybe,  is  not  wise  in  this  world's  wisdom ; 
but  as  he  remembers,  "  Whoso  hath  this  world's 
goods  and  seeth  his  brother  have  need  and  shutteth 
up  his  bowels  of  compassion  fi-om  him,  how 
dwelleth  the  love  of  God  in  him?"  lie  raises  his 
eyes  to  heaven  in  astonishment,  and  ventures 
to  ask  again,  "  Do  they  when  they  make  a  feast 
invite  the  poor  ?"  But  the  question  is  unanswered  ; 
for  they  have  arrived  at  the  door  of  the  poor-house, 
and  the  pauper  is  hustled  in,  to  spend  the  remnant 
of  his  days  with  the  drunkard,  the  profane,  the  idiot, 
the  half-rotten,  the  dying  and  the  dead. 

"  But,"  says  the  reader;  "  why  do  you  claim  for 
this  pauper  a  relationship  with  Jesus  Christ?" 
We  will  let  Christ  answer  for  himself: — "Whoso- 
ever shall  do  the  will  of  my  Father  which  is  in 
heaven,  the  same  is  my  brodier,  and  sister,  and 
mother."  Matt,  xii,  50.  And,  to  show  his  regard 
for  his  adopted  relatives,  he  says  again :  "  Verily  I 
pay  unto  you.  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one 
of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren  ye  have  done  it 
unto  me."  Surely,  if  there  was  any  abuse  to  be 
oftered,  I  should  rather  have  it  done  to  me  than  to 
my  tender  wife  and  children.  Even  so  the  Husband 
and  Father  of  the  Church  will  sympathize  with 


LIFE  OF  a.  W.  HEXUV. 


315 


thoso  that  he  loves,  and  pimish  the  offender  as  readily 
as  if  the  abuse  had  been  offered  to  himself. 

The  parable  of  Dives  and  Lazarus,  as  well  as  that 
concerning  the  man  who  fell  among  thieves  and 
was  relieved  by  the  good  Samaritan,  will  probably 
be  better  undei-stood  at  the  day  of  judgmeut  than 
it  Is  now.  The  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  sumptuous 
living  here,  will  cause  the  admonition  there,  as  surely 
in  your  case  as  in  that  of  the  rich  man :  "  Son, 
remember  that  thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst  thy 
good  things  1"  O  Lord,  cleanse  the  Church  from 
their  gewgaws.  Ther,e  are  now  more  than  three 
millions  of  Church-members  who  have  sworn,  God 
being  their  helper,  to  renounce  the  vain  pomp  and 
glory  of  the  world.  My  dear  brother  and  sister, 
Uirn  to  your  Bible,  then  to  your  wardrobe,  and  see 
how  they  compare.  Remember  the  vows  you  made 
before  God  when  inducted  into  the  Church  or  the 
ministry,  then  turn  from  your  superfluities  and  look 
upon  Lazarus,  lying  at  your  gate  covered  with  sores, 
ragged,  wretched,  and  forsaken.  The  Lord  has 
made  you  his  steward.  Can  he  say  to  you  at  his 
coming,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant !" 
if  youliave  left  his  family  to  suffer,  while  you  wasted 
his  substance  in  riotous  linng  ? 

But,  says  the'reader,  I  thought  Lazarus  was  dead 
long  ago.  There  you  are  mistaken ;  Lazarus  is  still 
li\  ing  upon  the  earth.  Gather  together  the  inmates 
of  all  the  poor-houses  and  hospitals,  and  add  to  these 
all  the  wretched  drunkards,  their  wives  and  children ; 


31G 


THIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


cast  your  eyes  over  Mason's  and  Dixon's  Line,  and  hear 
the  cries  of  more  than  three  miihous  of  slaves,  for- 
bidden by  law  to  read  the  M'ord  of  life ;  then  throw 
your  quadrant  around  the  heathen  of  the  world, 
who  perish  for  the  lack  of  knowledge ; — put  all  these 
together,  and  you  have  Lazarus  lying  at  the  rich 
man's  gate.  O  that  I  had  room  and  time  to  say 
more  on  this  important  subject !  I  have  often  thought, 
if  I  could  have  the  privilege  of  stripping  the  Church 
of  all  that  God  has  forbidden  them  to  Avear,  I  could 
clothe  and  feed  the  Lazaruses  of  this  world.  There  is 
no  doubt  but  that  the  Church  this  day,  in  America, 
average  ten  dollars  apiece  of  superfluities ;  so  that 
from  three  millions  of  Church-membei-s  might  be 
taken  thirty  millions  of  dollars  annually. 

O  Lord,  purify  the  sons  of  Levi,  and  purge  tliem 
as  silver  and  gold,  that  they  and  their  families  may 
be  examples  to  the  flock.  Help  us  to  make  straight 
paths  with  our  feet,  lest  that  which  is  lame  be  turned 
out  of  the  way.  O  that  we  might  think  more  of 
the  flock,  and  less  of  the  fleece !  But,  says  one, 
do  you  not  think  it  right  to  take  money  for  preach- 
ing, especially  at  the  poor-house?  When  I  get 
religion  enough  to  bear  it,  and  so  poor  that  I 
cannot  live  without  it,  1  may  pei'haps  take  it.  I 
once  allowed  a  subscription  to  be  taken  np  for  me 
in  the  village  of  Herkimer.  Having  preached  in 
the  forenoon,  it  was  announced  by  a  good  brother 
that,  at  the  close  of  the  evening  service,  a  sub- 
scription would  be  taken  up  for  brother  Henry. 


LIFE  OF  CJ.  W.  UENRV. 


317 


My  preaching  iu  the  evening  was  like  a  loco- 
motive, endeavouring  to  surmount  a  heavy  grade 
with  a  little  steam. 

The  subscription  amounted  to  about  three  dollai-s. 
That  was  the  first  and  the  last  I  have  ever  received 
for  preaching.  What  will  be  hereafter  I  know  not ; 
but  I  should  be  afi-aid  that  if  a  large  salary  were 
given  by  the  county  for  preaching  at  the  alms-house, 
my  eye  might  cease  to  be  single  to  the  cause  of 
saving  souls.  I  fear  that  I  should  be  like  some  of 
Noah's  carpenters,  who  worked  faithfully  in  building 
the  ark,  who  verily  received  their  reward,  which  was 
the  dollar,  but  never  entered  into  the  ark.  I  am 
not  writing  any  one  else's  experience  but  my  own, 
neither  do  I  say  it  is  wrong  to  pay  money  for 
preaching  the  gospel.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  wicked 
not  to  do  it;  and  I  have  done  it  myself,  more  or 
less,  ever  since  I  was  converted.  Although  I  have 
travelled  as  many  miles,  and  preached  to  as  many 
people,  perhaps,  as  any  other  humble  individual  for 
three  dollare,  yet  I  never  have  lacked  any  of  the 
common  comforts  of  life.  When  my  wife  was 
brought  down,  as  she  supposed,  to  the  verge  of 
Jordan,  her  jewelry,  which  had  been  laid  up  in  a 
napkin,  found  its  way  into  the  missionary-box,  and 
her  silk  frmges  found  an  entrance  into  a  flaming 
stove.  The  devil  cried  out,  AVastefidness !  as  she 
stood  with  the  large  handful  of  Italian  braid  in  her 
hand ;  better  give  them  or  sell  them  to  your  hired  girl. 
Yes !  and  then  turn  around  and  reprove  her  for 


318 


TRIALS  AND  XKIUMl'lIS  IN  THE 


wearing  them.  O  consistency,  thou  art  a  jewel ! 
Reader,  let  me  tell  you  a  little  story,  to  illustrate  my 
idea  of  consistency.  A  few  years  since  I  chanced 
to  be  standing  by  the  side  of  a  minister,  who  was 
giving  directions  to  a  carriage-maker  for  a  ne^v 
buggy.  The  mechanic  asked  him  whether  he  would 
have  silver-plated  hubs,  or  have  the  iron  painted  over, 
telling  him  that  the  difference  in  the  price  would  be 
about  two  dollars.  The  minister  replied  that  he 
would  have  tlie  silver  hubs  by  all  means.  Now 
suppose  that  minister  should  chance  to  have  his 
carriage  opposite  the  chui'ch  window  while  leading 
the  class,  and  there  should  happen  to  be  present 
a  sister  with  a  pair  of  ear-ring-s  dangling  from  her 
cars  that  cost  two  dollars.  If  he  was  a  Methodist 
he  would  probably  say  to  her,  "Sister,  the  word 
of  God  and  our  Discipline  forbid  the  wearing  of 
such  things;  besides,  you  are  fostering  inida  in 
your  own  heart  and  wasting  your  Lord's  money. 
Why,  sister,  the  price  of  those  jewels  would  send 
thirty-two  Testaments  to  the  heathen.  Think, 
too,  of  the  example  you  are  setting  to  others." 
This  exhortation  is  all  good  and  true,  and  it  is 
what  every  faithful  minister  ought  to  administer 
to  any  who  offend.  But  what  would  it  avail  in 
the  case  we  have  just  cited,  so  long  as  the  silver 
hub  was  as  plain  to  the  A'iew  of  the  young  lady 
as  the  jewelry  was  to  the  minister?  Would  she 
not  say  to  him,  "  Sir,  you  choose  to  wear  your 
jewelry  on  yoiir  carriage ;  I  choose  to  wear  mine 


LIFK  OF  Ci.  \V.  HK.NHV.  ol9 

in  my  ears."  Here  you  find  them  both  tumbled 
in  the  ditch  together,  and  the  washing  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  will  be  needed  to  cleanse  them  from  their 
idols. 

Header,  I  have  referred  by  chance  to  one  piece  of 
extravagance  in  the  shajjc  of  a  silver-plated  wagon- 
hub.  Not  but  that  I  might  find  a  thousand  other 
things  hi  the  Church  more  or  less  extravagant. 
Cei-tainly  a  man,  to  be  in  good  taste,  if  he  had  a 
silver-plated  hub,  should  have  a  plated  harness, 
and  the  balance  of  the  rig  throughout  to  correspond. 
Then,  to  ride  in  this  fine  carriage,  the  husband  and 
wife  should  be  richly  dressed ;  and  if  we  should  tbllow 
the  establishment  home  we  should  expect  to  find 
household  furniture  to  match,  otherwise  it  would 
appear  like  a  gentleman  barefoot  with  a  pair  of  fine 
kid  gloves  on. 

And  then,  when  the  feast  or  tea-party  is  made,  in 
vaui  may  the  poor  and  ragged  and  half-starved  ex- 
pect to  receive  a  card  of  invitation.  I  was  once  at  a 
camp-meeting  in  Maryland,  composed  of  about  an 
equal  number  of  black  and  white,  where  a  coloured 
man  preached.  In  speaking  of  a  feast,  he  said: 
"  You  know,  bredren,  dat  when  we  cook  fine  turkey 
and  venison  and  all  such  tings,  we  only  have  the 
aggravation  of  looking  on  dem  and  smelling  on  dera, 
den  setting  dem  on  de  dining  table  for  Massa  and 
Missy  and  de  big  gentle-folks,  Avho  eat  dem  all  up ; 
but,  bressed  be  God !  it  aint  so  in  de  gospel  feast ; 
dere  de  poor  brack  nigger  am  set  down  to  de  fust 


y20  lUlALS  AND  TKIUMI'HS  IN  TUE 


table  wid  Massa  Jesus,  and  have  de  soul  feed  on  fat 
tings  full  of  marrow."  Gloiy  to  God  !  Uncle  Tom 
and  Aunt  Ghloe  may  have  their  sorrows  and  dis- 
appointments in  this  world,  but  it  will  not  be  so  in 
the  world  to  come.  Thanks  be  to  God  !  Ethiopia 
has  already  stretched  forth  her  hands,  and  thousands 
of  northern  freemen  stand  ready  to  welcome  with 
a  hearty  shake  the  outstretched  hand,  and  whisper 
in  the  ear  of  the  long  down-trodden,  "Light  is 
dawning."  May  God  speed  the  time  when  none 
on  the  face  of  this  fair  land  shall  be  debarred  the 
heaven-bestowed  right  of  searching  the  Scriptures, 
and  growing  wise  thereby  ! 


SELLING  HEAVEN. 

"  Go,  bring  me,"  said  the  dying  fail-, 

With  anguish  in  her  tone, 
"Tliose  costly  robes  luid  jewels  rare, 

Go,  bring  them  every  one." 
They  strew'd  them  on  her  dying  bed. 

Those  robes  of  princely  cost ; 
"Father,"  with  bitterness  she  said, 

"  For  these  my  soul  is  lost ! 

"  With  glorious  hopes  I  once  was  blest. 

Nor  fear'd  the  gaping  tomb ; 
With  heaven  already  in  my  heart 

I  look'd  for  heaven  to  come. 
I  heard  a  Saviour's  pard'ning  voice. 

My  soul  was  fill'd  with  peace  ; 
Father,  you  bought  me  with  these  toys, 

I  barter'd  heaven  for  these. 


321 


"  Take  them,  they  are  the  price  of  blood ; 

For  them  I  lost  my  soul ; 
For  them  must  bear  the  wrath  of  Goil 

While  ceaseless  ages  roll. 
Remember,  when  you  look  on  these, 

Your  daughter's  fearful  doom  ; 
That  she,  her  pride  and  thine  to  please. 

Went  quaking  to  the  tomb. 

"  Cio,  bear  them  from  my  sight  and  touch  ; 

Your  gifts  I  here  restore ; 
Keep  them  with  care — they  cost  you  much. 

They  cost  your  daughter  more. 
Look  at  them  every  rolling  year 

Upon  my  dying  day, 
And  drop  for  me  the  burning  tear," 

She  said,  and  sunk  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  summer  of  1851  was  the  season  of  a  glorious 
camp-meeting  at  Augusta.  It  was  so  good  in  the 
l>eginning  and  ending  tliat  I  cannot  pass  it  un- 
noticed. When  I  say  ending,  I  mean  the  breaking 
up  of  the  meeting ;  for  I  do  not  believe  I  have  yet 
found  tlie  end  of  the  glorious  river  that  swept 
through  my  soul,  and  has  wafted  me  on  towards 
heaven.  I  expect  the  river  to  grow  broader  and 
deeper  until  it  is  lost  in  the  great  ocean  of  eternity ; 
but  I  must  make  this  long  story  short.  My  little 
boy  Charley,  who  was  converted  at  the  class-meeting, 
as  I  told  you,  while  absent  a  few  months  at  school, 
21 


322  TKIALS  AND  IKlLMl'ilfj  IX  TUE 


liad  suffered  the  little  mischievous  foxes  to  mutilate, 
if  not  ,to  root  up,  the  tender  vines  planted  in  the 
garden  of  his  soul.  As  I  crossed  the  threshold  of 
the  camp-ground,  I  received  a  hearty  welcome  from 
the  great  Head  of  the  Church.  I  then  took  Charley 
in  the  arms  of  faith  and  threw  him  into  the  pool, 
and  he  rose  in  the  likeness  of  his  Saviour.  Ten 
o'clock  found  us  in  our  covered  wagon,  which  we 
used  as  a  substitute  for  a  tent,  and  I  doubt  whether 
the  disciples  were  much  happier  on  Mount  Tabor 
than  we  were  there,  fully  proving  that  it  is  not  tlie 
place,  but  the  state  we  are  in  that  makes  the  heaven. 
We  were  full  of  glory  and  of  God.  With  our  souls 
all  washed  with  the  blood  of  Christ  and  renewed  in 
life,  our  sleep  was  like  that  of  Bunyan's  pilgrims, 
who  received  their  refreshment  from  the  hand  of 
the  shepherd  on  the  delectable  mountains ;  it  left  a 
peculiar  flavour  and  sweetness  upon  the  lip,  so  that 
they  talked  in  their  sleep  about  the  celestial  city 
and  the  King  of  the  place.  A  word  or  two  about 
the  morning  waking,  and  we  pass  along.  It  was 
a  lovely  summei-  morning  in  June,  and  we  awoke 
just  at  the  break  of  day.  It  seemed  as  if  every 
limb  in  the  forest  around  us  was  bending  with  a 
feathered  songster,  whose  heart  and  tongue,  like 
our  own,  had  been  tuned  anew  for  heaven,  whilst 
over  our  head  a  squirrel  chattered  in  perfect  liarmon}'. 
Vciy  soon  we  heard  the  morning  song,  followed  by 
fervent  prayer,  from  the  family  altai',  until  every  tent 
was  vocal  with  prayer  and  praise ;  yea,  in  the  lau- 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IlENUV. 


323 


gnage  of  the  prophet,  the  very  hills  and  mountains 
seemed  to  break  forth  with  singing,  and  all  the  trees 
of  the  field  to  clap  their  hands  for  joy.  My  earthly 
eyes  could  not  look  upon  all  these  beauties ;  but,  to 
the  undimmed  vision  of  the  soul,  I  seemed  to  have 
ah-eady  come  to  that  place  where  the  revelator 
heard  every  creature  in  heaven  and  on  earth  and 
under  the  earth,  and  all  that  arc  in  the  sea,  saying : 
"  Blessing,  honour,  glorj',  and  power  be  unto  Him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for- 
ever and  ever."  In  the  midst  of  this  general  jubilee, 
however,  there  came  a  flock  of  crows  with  their  black 
shining  coats ;  and  their  caw,  caw,  caw,  brought  to 
my  mind  the  passage  of  Scripture :  "  There  shall 
come  scoffers  in  the  last  days."  But,  regardless  of 
the  cawing  of  crows,  the  anthem  of  praise  went  up 
to  God ;  and  though  the  Church  have  boon  scoffed  at 
and  ridiculed  by  a  sensual  and  pleasure-loving 
multitude  s^ince  the  days  of  Christ,  they  still  shout 
ti'iumphantly  :  "  Neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels, 
nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present, 
nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any 
other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 

"  Though  unseen,  I  love  the  Saviour ; 

He  hath  brought  salvation  near ; 
Manifests  his  i)ard'ning  favour ; 

And  when  Jesus  doth  appear, 
Soul  and  body 

Shall  his  glorious  image  bear." 


324  TKIALS  AND  TlilLMrHti  IN  THE 


Tlic  meeting  grew  better  and  better  as  souls  were 
converted  and  believei-s  sanctified;  and  when  we 
met  on  the  last  morning  for  love-feast,  there  was 
brother  B.  J.  I  ves  with  his  battalion  of  young  soldiers, 
many  of  them  new  recruits,  and  brother  Torry  with 
his  detachment  of  red  men,  who  had  laid  down  the 
tomahawk  and  taken  hold  of  the  sceptre  of  peace. 
And  now  the  love-feast  relished  like  the  dessert  of 
strawberries  and  cream,  after  the  more  substantial  din- 
ner. Then  came  the  breaking  up  of  the  circle,  and  the 
farewell.  Long  may  this  time-honoured  custom  be 
retained,  as  a  feature  of  our  beloved  camp-meetings. 
While  the  procession  was  passing  around,  I  began 
to  feel  the  effects  of  the  wine  dispensed  by  the  Master 
of  the  feast,  and  I  began  to  jump,  and  perfiaps  I 
jumped  fifty  times  as  high  as  ever  I  did  in  my 
youthful  days,  and  then  fell  to  the  ground.  I  was 
never  happier  in  my  life ;  but  I  soon  rose  and  took 
my  place  with  the  preachei-s,  and  as  the  procession 
came  around  they  seemed  to  be  robed  in  spotless 
white,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  were  passing  them  directly 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  These  were  certainly 
the  most  j^eculiar  moments  of  my  life.  Scripture- 
promises  seemed  to  flow  forth  from  my  mouth  like 
the  gushing  of  water  from  the  smitten  rock,  as  I 
encouraged  every  one  that  I  took  by  the  hand  to 
enter  into  rest.  The  question  has  often  been  asked, 
whetlier  I  had  anything  to  do  with  that  leaping  and 
jumping ;  and  I  answer  in  the  fear  of  God,  if  I  know 
my  own  heart,  I  have  no  will  about  it  any  more 


1,1  FK  OK  (.-.  W.  HBN'UY. 


;325 


than  an  automaton,  or  the  hrancli  swa3-ed  to  and 
fro  by  the  wind.  Do  not  think,  reader,  that  these 
particular  exercises  are  proof  that  I  possess  any  more 
religion  than  some  persons  who  do  not  have  them. 
The  man  who  sings,  and  shouts,  and  dances  in  tlio 
bar-room  may  be  no  more  intoxicated  than  one  who 
sits  stupidly  in  his  chair,  or  lies  silent  on  the  floor. 
You  will  remember  we  have  shown,  in  a  former 
chapter,  how  the  same  spirit  operates  dift'erently 
upon  ditierent  temperaments.  You  know  the  psy- 
chologist and  the  clairvoyant  must  have  one  or 
more  persons  who  are  willing  to  be  used  as  subjects 
to  illustrate  their  sciences  for  the  benefit  of  the  mul- 
titude. It  seems  to  be  so  in  the  science  of  religion. 
The  Holy  Ghost  makes  use  of  certain  persons  to 
display  liis  power  for  the  benefit  of  the  sinner,  who 
is  first  moved  by  siglit  and  then  by  faitli. 

T  remember,  when  a  very  small  boy,  seeing  a 
neiglibour  of  mine,  in  whom  I  had  the  greatest  con- 
fidence, standing  up  in  the  midst  of  a  company  of 
wrestling  brethren  and  sistei's.  While  talking,  all 
at  once  he  began  to  tremble  and  shake,  and  after 
shouting  once  or  twice  he  fell  to  the  ground  like  a 
dead  man.  That  scene  has  been  vivid  in  my  mind 
ever  since.  I  was  convinced  of  the  power  of  religion 
by  what  I  then  saw,  more  than  by  all  the  sermons 
I  had  ever  heard.  We  have  said  so  much  on  the 
subject  of  these  outward  demonstrations  of  the 
Spirit,  not  only  because  the  Spirit  has  seemed  to 
select  your  humble  author  as  the  subject  of  these 


820 


TinALS  ANIJ  TKUMI'Urt  IN  THE 


manifestations,  but  because  many  lionest  (Jhristians 
are  in  the  fog  on  this  subject,  and  the  devil  will  try 
to  make  them  believe,  that  because  they  are  not 
operated  upon  in  the  same  manner  they  have  no 
religion,  or  that  those  who  are  thus  exercised  must 
be  deluded  hypocrites  or  enthusiasts.  It  is  a  will- 
ing subject  that  the  pschologist  generally  selects  to 
test  his  power  upon ;  even  so,  unless  a  Christian  is 
willing  to  be  used  by  the  great  Eternal  in  any  way 
or  shape,  or  even,  like  tlie  Apostle  Paul,  to  become 
a  fool  for  Christ's  sake,  he  will  not  be  as  likely  to 
be  a  chosen  subject.  This  rule  cannot  be  considered 
invariable  ;  for  in  the  history  of  the  Church  we  liave 
frequent  accounts  of  ■^^■lcked  men  arrested  by  the 
]>ower  of  the  Holy  Ghost  without  the  agency  of 
(heir  own  wills  in  the  matter  at  »all.  There  were 
two  cases  that  occurred,  about  the  time  I  was  con- 
verted, in  Cumberland,  Maryland.  As  an  illustra- 
tion of  this  power,  permit  me  to  tell  the  story.  A 
wealthy  young  lawyer,  one  of  the  Virginia  bloods, 
and  withal  a  very  clever  fellow,  married  a  very 
proud  young  lady,  and  moved  into  Cumberland 
with  his  mother-in-law,  an  Episcopalian  lady.  Alto- 
gether they  took  about  as  much  room  on  the  side- 
walk as  there  was  any  particular  need  of.  About 
this  time  a  powerful  revival  commenced  in  that 
place.  The  power  of  God  was  manifest  in  bringing 
sinners  to  the  feet  of  Jesus.  One  evening  this  royal 
trio  came  at  the  hour  appointed  for  preaching,  and 
took  one  of  the  front  seats,  where  they  might  gratify 


LIFE  OF  (I.  \V.  IIENKV. 


327 


their  curiosity  by  a  fair  view  of  the  tantrums  per- 
formed by  the  deluded  Methodists ;  but,  some  how 
or  other,  the  Holy  Ghost  found  its  way  into  their 
pew,  and  persuaded  the  mother  that  there  was 
something  in  religion  besides  form  and  ceremony, 
and  she  came  forward  to  the  altar  and  knelt  down 
among  the  servants  and  common  people,  and  began 
with  all  her  might  to  ciy  for  mercy.  This  enraged 
the  royal  tigress,  and  she  pounced  out  of  the  pew, 
and  after  pouring  some  severe  epithets  into  the  ear 
of  her  raothei',  she  demanded  of  her  the  key  of  the 
house,  declaring  that  she  would  not  stay  there  to  be 
disgraced.  As  she  took  the  key,  she  fell  prostrate 
on  the  flooi'.  Satins,  ruffles,  rings,  reputation  and 
aristocracy  were  all  rolling  on  the  flooi-  together. 
Her  husband  and  friends,  as  soon  as  she  gathei-ed  a 
little  strength,  attempted  to  assist  her  towards  the 
<loor;  but  she  cried  loudly  for  mercy,  ami  fell  again 
to  the  floor.  Her  case  was  now  fully  understood,  and 
Christians  began  calling  upon  God  in  her  behalf. 

About  midnight  she  was  helped  home,  crying  at 
the  top  of  her  voice  as  she  passed  through  the 
streets.  About  two  o'clock  she  was  enabled  to 
touch  the  hem  of  Jesus's  garment,  and  virtue  flowed 
into  her  soul,  and  she  shouted  victory  !  througli  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb.  When  the  morning  came, 
arrayed  in  luimble  garments,  she  went  through  the 
town,  telling  the  story  of  Jesus's  pardoning  love  to 
saint  and  sinner,  high  and  low,  black  and  white, 
proving  that  the  gospel  is  not  only  the  power  of 


328 


rRIAL>i  AND  THU  MHII.S  IN'  THK 


(Jo(l  unto  full  salvation,  but  that  in  the  {?osi>el  all 
are  bi-Qught  upon  a  level — the  poor  man  rejoicing 
in  that  he  is  exalted,  and  the  i-ich  in  that  he  is 
made  low. 

There  are  some  kinds  of  fish  that  cannot  be 
caught  witli  a  hook  or  net.  The  only  way  is  to 
spear  them.  Such  was  the  case  with  Saul  of  Tarsus, 
and  so  it  seemed  with  the  individual  just  mentioned. 
1  need  not  say  that  a  glorious  reformation  followed 
in  that  place. 

I  will  mention  one  other  peculiar  case  of  the  dis- 
play of  God's  power  upon  a  good  old  lady,  near  tiie 
same  town,  amounting  to  something  like  a  miracle. 
She  was  one  who  had  been  made  perfect  through 
suftering,  not  having  been  able  to  walk  for  several 
years.  A  camp-meeting  was  to  be  held  near  by, 
and  she  liungered  and  thirsted  for  the  great  feast. 
Her  friends  took  her  to  the  ground  in  a  carriage, 
and  as  she  was  somewhat  deaf,  the  carriage  was 
draM'n  close  to  the  door  of  the  preachers'  stand ;  and 
while  the  anointed  of  the  Lord  was  telling  of  the 
glories  of  a  crucified  Redeemer,  the  flood-gates  of 
glory  seemed  to  be  raised  upon  her  soul,  and  leap- 
ing into  the  preachers'  stand  with  the  strength  and 
agility  of  youth,  she  shouted  at  the  top  of  her  voice, 
"  Double  glory !  double  glory !"  God  had  said  unto 
her,  as  he  did  to  one  of  old,  "  In  the  name  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  rise  up  and  walk."  When  asked  what 
she  meant  by  "  double  glory,"  she  said,  when  God 
converted  and  sanctified  her  soul,  she  shouted  glory ! 


LIFE  OF  0.  W.  HENRY. 


329 


l>nt  now  he  had  liealed  soul  and  body  too,  and  she 
was  determined  to  g-ivo  him  double  glory.  Yes, 
reader,  if  all  the  shouts  of  glory  tliat  go  up  from  the 
redeemed  of  the  whole  earth  could  be  collected  into 
one,  the  sound  would  make  heaven's  arches  ring ; 
but  in  the  resurrection,  when  soul  and  body  shall  be 
united,  there  will  be  cause  for  double  glory,  and 
then  shall  be  heard  the  voice  of  a  great  multitude, 
and  as  the  voice  of  many  waters,  and  as  the  voice 
of  mighty  thunderings,  saying.  Alleluia,  for  the 
Lord  God  omnipotent  reignetli !  Let  us  be  glad 
and  rejoice,  and  give  honour  to  him,  for  the  marriage 
of  the  Lamb  is  come,  and  his  wife  hath  made  herself 
ready." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Although  we  have  enough  before  us  of  our  last  two 
years'  rich  experience  to  spread  over  fifty  pages,  yet 
we  have  already  so  far  transcended  what  we  origin- 
ally intended,  that  we  must  abridge  or  wholly  pass  by 
many  trials  and  triumphs  in  the  closing  part  of  our 
narrative.  In  September,  1851,  our  annual  camp- 
meeting  was  held  in  the  town  of  Western.  It 
chanced  to  be  on  the  same  week  as  the  great  book- 
auction  in  New- York,  where  I  made  my  annual 
purchases  for  school  district-libraries.  Thus  I  was 
in  a  strait  between  two.  I  should  have  lost  no  time 


330 


TRIALS  ANIJ  TRU'MI'IIS  IN  TlIK 


ill  deciding,  however,  had  not  circumstances  oecuiTed 
that  ;uade  it  my  duty  to  be  at  home.  My  wife 
presented  me  Avith  the  lovely  black-eyed  boy  that 
you  see  in  her  arms,  (see  frontispiece,)  and  he  is 
now  running  about  the  floor,  quite  a  revenue  to  our 
earthly  joys,  and  another  light  for  the  blind  man's 
path. 

We  come  now  to  the  last  winter  of  ray  narrative. 
Having  sent  an  agent  to  the  auction,  I  had  a  large 
amount  of  books  on  hand,  and  my  prospects  for 
success  were  as  brilliant  as  in  former  days,  when  I 
was  pulling  down  the  Alleghany  Mountains  and 
tumbling  them  into  the  deep  valleys,  making  a 
highway  for  the  iron-horse  to  pass  over  their  rugged 
lieights.  I  had  purchased  a  fine  horse  to  carry  on 
my  business,  and  having  made  extensive  contracts 
with  trustees  of  schools,  I  was  just  ready  to  take  the 
tide  of  fortune  at  the  flood,  when  an  old  acquaint- 
ance came  and  stood  by  me,  and  with  his  sharp 
shears  clipped  the  wings  of  my  fond  anticipations, 
so  that  instead  of  flying  I  found  myself  compelled 
to  take  it  on  foot  again. 

This  old  friend  you  have  been  introduced  to 
several  times  while  I  was  travelling  in  Egypt,  under 
the  cognomen  of  "  Bad  Luck."  But  I  never  will  call 
him  by  that  name  again,  for  he  has,  doubtless,  been 
sent  by  a  kind  Providence  to  hedge  up  my  wa)'  from 
the  whirlpool  of  earthly  riclies  and  honour,  lest  they 
lead  me  to  future  perdition;  for  lie  who  saw  the 
end  from  the  beginning  hath  said,  "  Hardly  shall  a 


HKK  OF  C.  W.  IIKNKV.  Jj."?  I 

rich  man  outer  into  tlie  kingdom  of  iieaven."  There 
are  some  creatures  so  unruly  that  they  cannot  be 
kept  where  they  belong,  only  b)'  tying  them  head 
to  foot  and  hanging  a  board  before  their  eyes. 

This  is  something  like  my  case.  Unless  my  rising 
ambition  is  fettered  and  blindfolded,  I  am  sure  to 
overleap  the  limits  prescribed  by  my  wise  Master; 
therefore,  instead  of  calling  him  "Bad  Luck,"  or 
"  Old  Foe,"  as  formerly,  I  shall  ever  regard  hira  as 
an  angel  of  mercy,  like  the  one  that  stood  in  the 
way  of  the  money-loving  Balaam.  0  Lord,  let  me 
wear  these  tokens  of  a  kind  Father's  love  with 
meekness  and  patience  until  the  appearing  of  the 
great  day,  when  all  bands  shall  be  broken,  the  eyes 
of  the  blind  shall  see,  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  shall 
be  unloosed,  and  the  feet  of  the  lame  shall  walk, 
(ilory  to  God  for  the  prospect !  But  I  have  outrun 
my  story.  Please  go  back  with  me  to  the  spring 
of  1852.  You  see  me  with  my  pencil,  figuring 
about  fifteen  hinidred  or  two  thousand  dollars  of 
school  district-library  money,  which  was  expected 
to  come  into  the  hands  of  the  trustees  about  the 
first  of  April.  We  had  a  noble  young  horse,  worth 
about  a  hundred  dollars.  But  while  I  was  building 
air-castles,  an  acquaintance  entered  and  informed 
me  that  the  legislature  had  turned  the  library-money 
into  another  channel,  leaving  a  mere  pittance  scarcely 
worth  picking  up  in  the  hands  of  the  trustees.  So 
here  I  was  buried  up,  comparatively,  in  cart-loads 
of  books,  without  any  prospect  of  selling.  Besides, 


332  TRIALS  AND  TRIfMPHS  IN  THE 

I  was  owing  for  a  good  portion  of  them  in  New- 
York.,  Soon  after  this  I  sent  my  boy  with  the 
horse  to  take  a  friend  to  Richfield  Springs.  He 
returned  the  next  day  with  the  halter  in  his  liand, 
telling  me  that  the  horse  had  died  that  morning 
about  sunrise.  The  lip  of  my  sick  wife  began  to 
quiver  a  little,  and  a  tear  or  two  stole  down  her 
cheek;  but  to  my  view  a  bright  star  of  promise 
arose,  and  I  heard  Jesus  gently  whispering  in  my 
ear,  "  Fear  not ;  I  know  thy  works,  and  thy  tribula- 
tion, and  thy  poverty ;  but  thou  art  rich."  After 
speaking  a  few  words  of  encouragement  to  my  wife, 
telling  her  that  I  was  perfectly  assured  that  all  these 
things  would  work  together  for  our  good,  because  I 
knew  we  loved  the  Lord,  I  ascended  the  ladder  that 
led  to  the  garret  of  ray  cabin.  I  knelt  there  before 
the  throne,  and  instead  of  saying  this  evil  is  of  the 
Lord,  I  cast  a  retrospective  glance.  I  thought  of 
his  mercies  to  me  even  while  I  was  a  rebel  against 
him  in  Egypt,  and  of  the  wonderful  deliverances  the 
year  I  was  in  the  slough  of  despond,  then  the  hour 
of  pardon,  and  so  on  till  I  received  full  absolution, 
and  how  my  property  with  my  sight  all  took  wings 
and  flew  away  ten  years  ago,  yet  I  had  never 
lacked  to  this  day  any  of  the  comforts  of  life.  My 
barrel  of  meal  and  cruse  of  oil  had  never  been 
empty;  and  if  I  had  any  complaints  to  make,  it 
ought  to  be  against  myself,  that  so  unworthy  a  re- 
cipient should  fare  so  sumptuously;  and  I  prayed 
God  to  forbid  that  I  should  be  like  the  ancient 


LIFJE  OF  U.  W.  IIEMIV. 


333 


Israelite  who  murmured  against  God,  even  while 
his  mouth  was  filled  with  the  flesh  of  the  delicious 
quail.  0,  what  a  sacred  spot  was  this  to  my  soul ! 
The  Spirit  pointed  mo  to  Job,  and  reminded  me 
how  the  Lord  "blessed  the  latter  end  of  Job  more 
than  his  beginning."  O  the  exceeding  great  and 
precious  promises !  I  arose  fi-om  my  knees,  and 
came  down  from  Mount  Tabor,  fully  believing  that 
good  would  come  out  of  our  affliction. 

In  the  summer  of  1849  I  lost  a  horse  by  disciise 
that  cost  twenty-five  dollars ;  and  in  the  winter  of 
1850  I  had  one  stolen  that  cost  forty -five  dollars  ; 
and  now,  m  the  winter  of  1852,  I  lost  this  one  that 
cost  me  eighty  dollars.  And  now  we  see  that  wise 
Hand  that  moves  all  the  machinery  of  providence, 
causing  a  resurrection  of  my  three  horses.  God  put 
it  into  the  hearts  of  my  friends  and  neighbours  to 
circulate  a  subscription  to  remunerate  me  for  the 
loss  of  my  horse.  The  Holy  Ghost,  going  a  little  in 
advance  of  the  petition,  prepared  the  hearts  of  the 
people,  so  that  when  the  petition  came  they  were 
ready  to  open  their  pockets  and  give  their  money  as 
freely  as  the  mouth  of  the  fish  yielded  up  the 
tribute-money  for  Peter.  A  strange  place  one  would 
think  to  find  a  purse  floating  about  in  the  sea. 
When  the  money  was  brought  to  me,  the  amount 
did  not  vary  one  dollar  from  the  cost  of  the  three 
horses.  Little  did  I  think  the  death  of  one  horse 
would  be  the  resurrection  of  three.  So  let  us  "  trust 
in  the  Lord  and  do  good,  and  verily"  we  shall  "  be 


334  THlALa  AND  TKIUilPllS  IN  THE 


fed."  About  this  time  I  bad  a  good  opportunity  to 
excbange  my  library-books  for  Fox's  Book  of  Mar- 
tyrs, which  had  lately  been  revised,  making  a 
splendid  book,  about  the  size  of  a  large  family  Bible, 
containing  fifty-five  quarto  engravings;  and,  strange 
to  tell,  I  sold  from  four  to  five  hundred  dollars  worth 
in  a  very  short  time,  within  five  miles  of  the  village 
of  Frankfort.  I  also  sold  about  one  hundred  dollars 
worth  of  books  to  libraries.  And  thus  far  the  Lord 
has  been  my  helper.  Another  little  providence  I 
will  mention  to  the  praise  of  Him  who  lias  said,  "  If 
God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  which  to-day  is, 
and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall  he  not 
much  more  clothe  you,  O  ye  of  little  faith  ?"  I  had 
lost  my  over-coat,  or  had  it  stolen  from  me.  But 
the  eye  of  Him  who  tempers  the  wind  to  the  sliorn 
lamb,  witnessed  my  necessity,  and  he  at  once  sent 
a  messenger  with  a  much  better  coat  than  I  lost, 
which  fitted  me  to  a  T.  It  had  belonged  to  old 
father  Bradt,  of  the  town  of  Schuyler,  wlio  had 
lately  finished  his  pilgrimage  upon  earth.  His 
widow  had  at  first  made  a  different  disposition  of 
the  coat,  but  afterward,  though  she  had  never  heard 
of  my  loss,  she  said  the  Spirit  ga-\'e  her  no  rest  until 
she  had  sent  for  it  and  directed  her  son  Peter  to 
bring  it  to  me.  I  received  it  directly  from  the 
Lord,  like  the  old  woman  I  heard  of  once,  who  was 
one  morning  overheard  by  a  wicked  man  praying- 
for  bread  to  save  her  from  starvation.  The  infidel, 
thinking  to  have  a  little  fun,  ran  home,  and  taking 


LIFE  Ob  C.  W.  IIKNKV. 


335 


two  large  loaves  of  bread,  returned  to  the  cabin, 
crept  softly  up,  and  tumbled  the  loaves  down  the 
chimney.  Peeping  through  a  crevice,  he  saw  the 
old  lady,  her  eyes  swimming  with  tear-s  of  gratitude, 
pick  up  the  bread,  and  eat  it,  giving  hearty  thanks 
to  God.  The  wicked  man  bellowed  out,  "  You  old 
fool,  you  need  n't  thank  God  for  that  bread,  for  / 
brought  it  to  you."  The  old  saint  replied,  "  that  it 
made  no  diftercnce  to  her  if  the  devil  brought  it ; 
she  knew  that  the  Lord  sent  it." 

About  this  time  my  brother-in-law.  Judge  Wright, 
the  proprietor  of  an  extensive  flouring  establishment 
in  Logausport,  Indiana,  hearing  of  our  misfortunes, 
told  us  that  as  long  as  he  owned  tlie  mill  he  would 
furnish  us  with  all  the  flour  we  needed ;  and  he  has 
been  as  good  as  his  word. 

Another  channel  of  benevolence  I  ought  not  to 
fail  to  mention, — Mr.  L.  M.  Brown,  the  youngest 
brother  of  my  wife,  a  merchant,  in  Lafayette,  Lidi- 
ana,  who  occasionally  slips  a  five  or  ten  dollar 
note  into  a  letter,  which  finds  a  more  than  welcome 
in  the  cabin  of  the  poor.  How  glad  I  am  that  my 
Heavenly  Father  has  directed  his  recording  angel  to 
credit  all  these  things  to  my  benevolent  friends, 
even  to  the  giving  a  cup  of  cold  water  in  the  name 
of  a  disciple. 

"  His  stores  arc  open  .all  aud  free 
To  such  as  truly  upright  be  ; 
Water  and  bread  he  '11  give  lor  food, 
And  all  things  else  he  sees  is  good. 


336 


TRIALS  AND  TKILMI'HS  IN  TJIE 


"  Then  do  not  seek,  with  anxious  care, 
What  you  shall  eat,  or  drink,  or  wear ; 
Your  Heavenly  Father  will  you  feed ; 
He  knows  that  all  these  things  you  need. 

"  Without  reserve  give  Christ  your  heart ; 
Let  him  his  righteousness  impart ; 
Then  all  things  else  he  '11  freely  give  ; 
With  him  you  all  things  shall  receive." 

Aineii !  My  soul  is  a  witness  to  the  truth  of  these 
Ihies.  Truly  might  the  apostle  say,  that  the  promises 
are  yea  and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus.  But  while  we 
remember  with  gratitude  our  kind  fi'iends  through 
whom,  as  a  medium,  God  convej's  temporal  bless- 
ings to  his  needy  children,  we  cannot  help  reflect- 
ing, that  many  who  give  their  goods  to  feed  the 
poor  will  miss  of  heaven  at  last,  because  they  have 
made  a  Saviour  of  their  good  works.  Let  us  be 
careful  to  remember  that  "  there  is  none  other 
name  under  heaven  given  among  men  whereby  we 
must  be  saved,"  but  the  name  of  Jesus. 

I  am  reminded  of  another  little  circumstance, 
which  claims  a  place  in  this  golden  chain  of  provi- 
dences. It  was  but  a  few  days  since,  as  I  was 
getting  ready  on  Saturday  to  go  to  Rome  poor- 
house,  a  distance  of  twenty-seven  miles,  to  preach 
the  gospel,  the  tempter  whispered  in  my  ear,  "  You 
have  no  money  to  spare  on  such  occasions."  Here 
I  found  it  necessary  to  climb  up  the  ladder  that  led 
to  the  garret  of  my  cabin,  and  tell  my  Heavenly 
Father  all  about  ni)'  troubles.  He  listened  to  me 
kindly,  and  graciously  permitted  me  to  pour  all  my 


LIFE  OK  (i.  W.  ilKXKV. 


.337 


ti'onltlos  into  his  hosom.  I  came  down  from  my 
sanctum,  feeling  assured  that  tlie  Lord  would  not 
suffer  me  to  go  a  warfare. at  my  own  charges.  I 
set  out  at  once,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  iron-hoi-sc 
landed  us  in  the  village  of  Rome.  I  had  not  been 
there  long,  before  some  individual  met  me  with  a 
friendly  salutation,  and,  giving  me  a  hearty  shake 
of  the  hand,  passed  on,  leaving  a  five-dollar  note  in 
my  hand.  I  know  not  w  ho  he  w  as,  or  from  whence 
he  came ;  probably  I  never  shall,  until  the  books 
are  opened  above.  ]>ut  1  fully  believe  that  it  came 
}\s  directly  from  God  as  did  the  meat  and  bread 
that  was  brought  to  Elijah  by  the  ravens.  My  fare 
on  the  cars  was  only  one  dollar,  but  I  have  always 
found  the  Lord  a  good  paymaster.  It  is  the  pure 
in  heart  that  can  plainly  see  the  hand  of  God  in 
lesser  a.s  well  as  in  gi-oater  blessings,  and  thankfully 
acknowledge  him  in  all  liis  ways. 

Reader,  I  ba^■e  been  relating  to  you  the  kind 
dealings  of  my  Heavenly  Fatlier  to  me  for  the  last 
year  of  my  narrative.  The  few  incidents  I  have 
given  you  have  been  selected  from  many  like  provi- 
dences, and  are  characteristic  of  God's  deaUngs  with 
me  since  I  entered  into  his  gracious  service,  although 
I  did  not  see  them  so  plainly  while  travelling  in 
twilight,  as  I  have  since  I  entered  the  land  of 
Beulah.  And  I  solemnly  believe,  that  if  I  prove 
faithful  to  Him  that  hath  called  me,  sooner  than  I 
should  lack  the  comforts  of  life,  God  would  place  a 
key  in  one  of  my  haiids,  and  his  draft  in  the  other, 


338 


TRIALS  AND  TRIUMPHS  IN  THE 


and,  with  the  full  assurance  of  faith,  I  could  unlock 
the  he^rt,  the  pocket,  or  the  granary  of  the  various 
misers  on  earth. 

I  wish  to  say  a  word  here  to  my  local  brethren 
in  the  ministry.  Satan  will  tempt  you  that  you  are 
working  for  nothing.  Remember  what  St.  Peter 
says,  and  you  will  at  once  detect  his  falsehood : 
"  Feed  the  flock  of  God  which  is  among  you,  taking 
the  oversight  thereof,  not  by  constraint,  but  willingly ; 
not  for  filthy  lucre,  but  of  a  ready  mind  ;  neither  as 
being  lords  over  God's  heritage,  but  being  ensam- 
ples  to  the  flock:  and  when  the  chief  Shepherd 
shall  appear,  ye  shall  receive  a  crown  of  glory  that 
fadeth  not  away." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

I  AM  often  astonished  when  I  look  back  upon  the 
first  part  of  my  Christian  pilgrimage,  and  reflect 
upon  my  stupidity  and  blindness  upon  the  great 
subjects  of  temperance  and  slavery.  Although  the 
curtain  of  my  moral  vision  has  been  gradually  rolling 
up,  yet  I  think  I  never  saw  these  two  huge  mon- 
sters, this  Gog  and  Magog,  in  their  true  light  until 
within  the  last  three  years. 

During  the  fifteen  years  that  I  was  engaged  on 
public  works,  I  presume  to  say  that  very  few  men 
followed  more  drunkards  to  the  grave  than  I  did. 


LIFE  OF  0.  W.  HENRY. 


339 


PioViably  ten  thousand  dollars  would  not  purchase 
the  liquor  that  was  drank  mthin  that  time  by  those 
in  my  employ. 

Alas !  how  indifferent  one  may  become  by  con- 
stant familiarity  with  scenes  of  drunkenness,  de- 
bauchery, and  death.  I  thank  God  that  he  has 
fully  awakened  me  to  a  sense  of  my  responsibility 
as  a  man  and  a  Christian.  St.  James  informs  us 
that  "  pure  religion,  and  inidefiled  before  God,  is  to 
visit  the  fatherless  and  the  widow  in  their  affliction ;" 
and  then,  as  if  aware  that  in  searching  out  the 
abodes  of  poverty,  we  should  come  in  contact  witli 
vice  and  comiption,  he  adds,  "  keep  yourselves  un- 
spotted from  the  world."  Visit  the  widow  in  her 
affliction;  not  when  her  quarter's  I'ent  is  due,  to 
pinch  fi-om  her  hard-earned  pittance  your  claim,  but 
visit  her  to  reheve,  to  console,  and  to  instruct  in 
righteousness.  There  are  thousands  that  alcohol 
has  robbed  of  a  kind  father  and  husband,  house 
and  home,  and  all  the  comforts  that  make  life  de- 
sirable; and  while  you  are  administering  comfort, 
and  wiping  away  the  tear  of  sorrow,  keep  youi-self 
"unspotted  from  the  world."  Xot  by  avoiding 
them,  and  passing  by  on  the  other  side,  as  if  you 
would  say,  "I  am  better  than  thou  ;"  but  by  follow- 
ing Christ's  example,  who  ate  and  drank  with 
pubUcans  and  sinners,  seeking  thereby  to  instil  into 
their  minds  his  pure  and  righteous  principles.  It 
was  from  reflections  such  as  these  that  I  decided  to 
join  the  Sons  of  Temperance.    Afv  motive  was  not 


340 


TRIALS  AND  TdUTMPIIS  IN  THE 


to  mutain  the  Division,  as  an  abstract  tiling,  but  to 
laboni\for  the  cause  of  the  poor;  believing,  as  I  do, 
that  the  Sons  are  nobly  engaged  in  efforts  to  relieve 
the  widowed  and  orphaned  sufierers  of  their  common 
enemy,  alcohol.  We  have  often  proved  that  "  union 
is  strength."  We  find  it  so  in  our  Church  organiza- 
tions. As  a  body,  we  can  accomjjlish  more  in  the 
work  of  saving  souls,  than  we  coidd  do  separately. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  Order  to  which  we  have 
referred. 

Let  us  glance  for  a  moment  at  the  call  for  la- 
bourers in  this  vineyard.  There  is  in  our  own 
village  a  distillery  converting  annually  twenty  tliou- 
sand  bushels  of  breadstuff",  which  God  in  his  mercy 
has  provided  to  sustain  life,  into  an  instrument  of 
death,  fitted  to  carry  the  fires  of  hell  into  the  peace- 
ful abodes  of  thousands  of  femilies.  WHierever  it 
goes,  there  rests  a  blighting  curse.  Thousands  of 
tender  liearts,  interwoven  by  the  ties  of  consanguinity 
and  holy  affection,  are  torn  asunder  and  left  bleed- 
ing. O  when  God  comes  to  make  inquisition  for 
blood,  shall  it  not  cry  unto  him  from  the  ground? 
]3ut  this  is  not  all.  Eight  or  ten  established  rum- 
holes  are  actively  engaged,  most  of  them  seven  days 
in  the  week,  in  spreading  the  work  of  death  and 
black  damnation. 

Our  division  of  brave  Sons,  who  are  a  detachment 
from  a  standing  army  of  more  than  thirty-five 
thousand,  have  thrown  tliemselves  into  the  breach, 
and  while  witli  one  hand  they  wage  war  against 


LIFE  OF  O.  W.  HEXKV. 


341 


the  invader  of  our  peaceful  homes,  the  other  is 
stretched  out  to  protect  the  defenceless  and  relieve 
the  suftering.  Such  was  my  eiTand  in  joining  the 
Sons  of  Temi>erance ;  and  if  I  have  got  a  religion 
that  will  not  sustain  me  on  any  errand  of  mercy,  I 
had  better  part  Avith  it  and  procure  the  genuine 
article. 

Thus  far  the  Lord  has  led  me  on.  I  carry  my 
religion  into  the  Division  and  bring  it  out  again, 
and  find  use  for  it  while  I  am  there  too.  I  have 
nailed  my  flag  to  the  mast,  praying  that  God  would 
give  us  tlie  Maine  law,  or  something  as  eSectual,  in 
putting  an  end  to  this  work  of  death.  The  prayers 
and  gi-oans  of  the  widow  and  orphan,  I  fully  be- 
lieve, liave  already  entered  into  the  ear  of  the  Loi-d 
of  Sabaoth,  and  the  fiery  hand-writing  of  Almighty 
God  is  on  the  walls  of  King  Alcohol,  "  Mene,  Tekel." 
Amen  I  let  the  temperance  ball  roll  on  like  the 
stone  cut  out  of  the  moimtain  without  hands,  until 
it  shall  fill  the  whole  earth. 

Reader,  I  have  only  given  you  an  inkling  of  my 
views  upon  temperance,  although  there  is  enough 
pent  up  in  my  soul  to  fill  a  volume ;  and  if  there 
were  any  danger  of  becoming  indifferent  on  this  sub- 
ject, I  have  only  to  go  to  Herkimer  and  Oneida 
County  poor-houses,  to  keep  the  fire  of  holy  indigna- 
tion burning.  "  At  the  last  it  biteth  like  a  serpent, 
and  stingeth  like  an  adder." 

In  regard  to  the  great  subject  of  slavery,  so  much 
ha-s  been  said,  and  .said  so  well  too,  that  but  little 


342 


TRIALS  AiNU  TUlLMl'ilS  IN  THE 


remains  for  me.  I  will,  however,  "  define  my  jjosi- 
tion."  ,  I  have  spent  years  at  the  South,  and  seen 
slavery  in  its  various  forms.  Yet,  when  I  came 
North,  I  brought  with  me  a  prosy,  sleepy  indiflfer- 
eiice  to  the  all-absorbing  subject  of  human  freedom, 
and  said,  by  my  actions,  if  not  in  words,  "  Am  I  my 
brother's  keeper  ?"  But,  when  heaven's  pure  day 
took  the  place  of  twilight,  I  think  I  saw  every  man 
in  his  true  light.  I  saw  the  unenviable  position  of 
the  slaveholder  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  miseries  and 
tears  of  the  oppressed  on  the  other.  I  felt  the  force 
of  what  St.  Paul  says  to  his  Hebrew  brethren,  "  Ee- 
member  them  that  are  in  bonds  as  bound  with 
them."  And  when  I  addressed  the  throne  of  grace 
in  private  or  in  public,  the  oppressed  slave,  as  well 
as  the  poor  drunkard  and  his  family,  were  remem- 
bered in  ray  petition.  I  cannot  resist  the  tempta- 
tion, at  this  point,  to  quote  from  Mrs.  Stowe,  who, 
I  have  no  doubt,  has  been  instrumental  in  doing 
more  for  the  cause  of  the  oppressed  African, — more, 
at  least,  in  bringing  about  a  healthy  public  opinion 
upon  this  subject, — than  all  the  grave  legislators  and 
pi-ofound  divines  that  ever  undertook  to  exhibit  its 
horrid  abuses.  We  take  the  extract  from  St.  Clare's 
conversation  with  his  Vermont  cousin,  page  10,  vol.  ii. 
"  On  this  abstract  question  of  slavery  there  can,  as  I 
Lliink,  be  but  one  opinion.  Planters,  who  have 
money  to  make  by  it, — clergymen,  who  have 
planters  to  please,- — i)oliticians,  who  want  to  rule  by 
it, — may  warp  and  bend  language  and  ethics  to  a 


LLFE  OF  (J.  W.  IlEMCV. 


343 


degree  tliat  shall  astonish  the  world  at  their  in- 
genuity ;  they  can  press  nature  and  the  Bible,  and 
nobody  knows  what  else,  into  the  service ;  but,  after 
all,  neither  they  nor  the  world  believe  in  it  one 
l)article  the  more.  It  comes  from  the  devil,  that 's 
the  short  of  it;  and,  to  my  mind,  it's  a  pretty 
respectable  specimen  of  wliat  he  can  do  in  his  own 

line  This  cursed  business,  accursed  of  God 

and  man,  what  is  it  ?  Strip  it  of  all  its  ornament, 
nm  it  down  to  the  root  and  nucleus  of  the  whole, 
and  what  is  it  ?  Why  because  my  brother  Quashy 
is  ignorant  and  weak,  and  I  am  intelligent  and 
strong, — because  I  know  how,  and  can  do  it, — 
therefore  I  may  steal  all  he  has,  keep  it,  and  give 
him  only  such  and  so  much  as  suits  ray  fancy. 
Whatever  is  too  hard,  too  dii-ty,  too  disagreeable 
for  me,  I  may  set  Quashy  to  doing.  Because  I 
don't  like  work,  Quashy  shall  work.  Because  the 
sun  burns  me,  Quashy  shall  stay  in  the  sun.  Quashy 
shall  earn  the  money,  and  I  M  ill  spend  it.  Quashy 
shall  lie  down  in  every  puddle,  that  I  may  walk 
over  dry-shod.  Quashy  shall  do  my  will,  and  not 
his,  all  the  days  of  his  mortal  life,  and  have  such 
chance  of  getting  to  heaven  at  last  as  I  find  conve- 
nient. This  I  take  to  be  about  what  slavery  is.  I 
defy  anybody  on  earth  to  read  our  slave-code  as  it 
stands  on  our  law-books,  and  make  anything  else 
of  it.  Talk  of  the  abuses  of  slavery  1  Humbug ! 
The  thinf/  itself  is  the  essence  of  all  abuse !  And 
the  only  reason  why  the  land  don't  sink  under  it, 


;i44  TKIALS  AND  TKIL'MI'HS  IN  THE 

like  Sodom  and  Gomoi  rali,  is,  because  it  is  tised  in 
a  way  infinitely  better  than  it  is." 

Mrs.  Stowe  has  given  us  the  sum  and  substance 
of  the  thing,  though  some  of  us  who  had  seen  its 
workings  years  ago,  needed  the  baptism  of  a  pure 
heart  before  we  were  fully  awake  to  the  truth  of  the 
great  precept,  "  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them."  As  for 
me,  I  felt  that  woe  would  be  unto  me  if  I  did  not 
lift  up  my  voice  as  a  trumpet,  to  wake  up  a  drowsy 
Church,  who  are  like  the  baggage-wagons  of  an 
array,  far  in  the  rear.  Alas  !  liow  many  Christians 
are  at  this  day  like  Lazarus,  standing  by  the  edge 
of  a  sepulchre,  wrapt  about  with  grave-clothes,  his 
hands  and  feet  boimd,  and  a  napkin  over  his  eyes. 
They  are  brought  to  life,  it  is  true ;  but  they  might 
as  well  be  in  their  graves,  as  regards  usefulness  to 
others.  They  are  wrapt  about  with  bigotry,  their 
hands  and  feet  bound  with  a  strong  desire  for  the 
world's  applause,  and  a  curtain  of  unbelief  over  their 
eyes.  O  Lord,  speak  the  second  time,  Loose  them 
and  let  them  go.  Let  them  go  into  the  abodes  of 
misery  and  wretchedness.  They  will  find  subjects 
enough  that  have  been  robbed  of  their  money  and 
of  gospel  privileges,  lying  half  dead  where  the  priest 
and  the  Levite  have  passed  them  by.  Eaise  them 
up,  pour  the  oil  of  consolation  into  the  wounded 
spii-it,  and  get  out  your  pence  to  minister  to  their 
earthly  comforts.  You  will  find  that  money  laid 
out  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  in  God's  name,  will 


LIFE  OF  G.  W.  IIENKY. 


345 


be  better  stock  than  any  of  earth's  corporations  can 
produce.  But  you  must  be  willing  to  trust  the  Lord, 
to  lay  out  your  property  in  the  way  that  he  sees  will 
be  most  to  your  advantage.  If  he  does  not  return 
it  four-fold  in  dollars  and  cents,  it  is  because  he 
sees  that  riches  would  be  a  snare  to  you.  But 
he  makes  it  all  up  in  riches  of  grace.  Sooner  or 
later  it  will  all  come  home  to  you.  The  Avidow's 
two  mites,  and  the  two-pence  of  the  good  Samar- 
itan, have  been  on  interest  more  than  eighteen 
hundred  years,  and  the  bank  of  heaven  never 
breaks.  O,  who  is  like  unto  the  God  of  Jacob? 
Who  can  do  for  his  favourites  like  Israel's  God  ? 
( )  wicked  man,  where  are  now  tlie  idols  in  which 
thou  hast  trusted?  Ambitious  Haman,  where  is 
now  thine  idol,  honour?  Did  he  stand  by  thee 
upon  the  gallows  ?  O  rich  glutton,  that  madest  a 
god  of  pleasure,  will  he  whom  thou  hast  served 
give  thee  back  thy  wasted  substance?  O  sensual 
worldling,  that  knowest  not  where  to  bestow  thy 
goods,  do  riches  profit  thee  ?  Could  mammon  save 
thee  ?  Deceived  souls !  apply  now  to  the  gods  that 
ye  have  chosen.  Alas  !  they  cannot  give  one  drop 
of  water  to  cool  your  parched  tongue.  But  the 
portion  of  Jacob  is  not  like  them.  From  everlast- 
ing to  everlasting,  he  is  God.  His  power  is  my 
confidence ;  his  goodness  is  my  maintenance ;  his 
truth  is  my  shield  and  buckler.  And  now,  reader, 
we  arc  approaching  the  close  of  our  narrative.  We 
have  been  talking  of  liigh  and  holy  things,  and 


34G  TRIALS  AND  TKIUiU'llS  IN  TUK 


they  are  all  true  as  far  as  we  understand  them. 
The  same  good  Spirit  that  found  me  gathering  stub- 
ble, and  making  brick  for  Pharaoh,  in  Egypt,  and 
brought  me  through  the  gate  of  justification,  thence 
onward  to  the  suburbs  of  the  land  of  Beulah,  has 
been  my  counsellor  and  aid  in  writing  this  little 
volume.  The  apostle  has  truly  said :  "  The  natural 
man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  for 
they  are  foolishness  unto  him :  neither  can  he  know 
them,  because  they  are  spiritually  discerned.  But  he 
that  is  spiritual  judgeth  all  things,  yet  he  himself 
is  judged  of  no  man."  1  Cor.  ii,  14,  15.  So,  my 
unconverted  reader,  do  not  set  yourself  up  as  a 
judge  of  the  spiritual  part  of  this  volume.  Neither 
can  the  Christian  judge  any  farther  than  he  has 
travelled  in  this  highway  of  holiness.  But,  says 
the  reader,  I  doubt  whether  there  was  ever  a  man 
made  perfect  on  earth.  Well,  if  that  is  the  case  we 
have  believed  in  vain,  and  our  testimony  goes  over- 
board. But  let  us  examine :  for  if  we  can  prove  that 
one  man  ever  arrived  at  a  state  of  perfection  in  the 
flesh,  then  all  may ;  otherwise  we  should  make  God 
a  respecter  of  persons.  AVe  refer  now  to  the  per  - 
fection of  saints,  and  not  the  perfection  of  God. 
But  let  us  bring  the  testimony  :  "  Noah  was  a  just 
man,  and  perfect  in  his  generations,  and  Noah 
walked  with  God."  Gen.  vi,  9.  "There  was  a  man 
in  the  land  of  Uz,  whose  name  was  Job  ;  and  that 
man  was  perfect  and  upright,  and  one  that  feared 
God  and  eschewed  evil.    And  the  Lord  said  unto 


LIVE  Of  U.  \V.  ilE.NKV. 


347 


Satan,  *IIast  tliou  considered  my  servant  Job,  that 
there  is  none  hke  him  in  the  earth,  a  perfect  and 
an  upright  man,  one  that  feareth  God  and  esehew- 
etli  evil.' "  Job  i,  1 ;  ii,  3.  "  Mark  the  perfect  man,  and 
behold  the  upright:  for  the  end  of  that  man  is 
peace."  Psa.  xxxvii,  37.  "  For  the  uprightshall  dwell 
in  the  land,  and  tlie  perfect  shall  remain  in  it." 
Prov.  ii,  21.  "  The  righteousness  of  the  perfect  shall 
direct  his  way,  but  the  wicked  shall  fall  by  his  own 
wickedness."  Prov.  xi,  5.  "  Howbeit,  we  speak 
wisdom  among  them  that  are  perfect:  yet  not 
the  wisdom  of  this  world,  nor  of  the  princes  of  this 
world,  that  come  to  naught."  1  Cor. ii,  6.  "Let  us 
therefore,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be  thus  minded : 
and  if  iu  anything  ye  be  otherwise  minded  God 
shall  reveal  this  unto  you."  Phil,  iii,  15.  It  is 
said  further  in  Scripture  of  Abraham,  that  "  by  his 
works,  his  faith  Avas  made  perfect ;"  and  again  it  is 
said  by  St.  James,  that  "  if  any  man  offend  not  in 
word,  the  same  is  a  perfect  man ;"  and  also, 
"  Whoso  keepeth  his  word,  in  him  verily  is  the 
love  of  God  perfected."  We  might  bring  hundreds 
of  witnesses  spoken  of  by  Wesley  and  others ;  but  if 
my  reader  will  reject  the  above  testimony  from 
Scripture,  he  would  reject  a  thousand  witnesses  that 
had  arisen  from  the  dead  to  con\-incc  him ;  and 
worse  thtui  that,  he  will  probably  reject  the  blessing 
itself  Mr.  Wesley  has  truly  said,  "  To  overdo  is  to 
undo,  and  to  set  the  standard  of  perfection  too  high 
is  to  throw  it  out  of  the  Church  and  out  of  the 


348  TRIALS  AXD  TRIUMPHS  liN  THE 


world."  I  should  quite  as  soon  Lave  an  enemy 
shoot  a  bullet  an  inch  over  my  head,  as  an  inch 
under  my  feet.  So  with  the  great  adversary  of  our 
souls :  if  he  can  get  the  standard  of  holiness  a  little 
above  or  a  little  beneath  the  Bible  standard,  it  mat- 
ters little  which  so  that  his  end  is  gained.  A 
miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,  as  far  as  his  purpose  is 
concerned.  We  must  be  made  perfect  in  order  to 
prepare  us  for  a  thrifty  growth,  that  every  limb  on 
the  spiritual  tree  may  bend  with  fruit  unto  holiness, 
the  end  of  which  is  everlasting  life.  Bring  me  the 
man  who  has  become  so  wise  that  he  cannot  become 
any  wiser.  You  cannot  do  it.  Bring  me  the  man 
so  good  that  he  cannot  become  any  better.  You 
cannot  find  him.  You  cannot  fill  a  man's  mind 
with  knowledge  until  it  cannot  hold  any  more.  On 
the  contrary,  every  new  acquisition  of  truth  only 
serves  to  enlarge  the  capacity  of  liis  mind  for  the 
comprehension  of  more  truth ;  so  that  the  more  he 
knows,  the  more  he  is  in  a  condition  to  learn. 
And  the  same  is  true  of  his  progress  in  virtue.  If  he 
overcame  one  bad  habit  yesterday,  he  has  increased 
power  to  overcome  another  bad  habit  to-day.  If  he 
brought  into  exercise  one  new  virtue  yesterday,  his 
power  is  not  lessened  but  increased,  to  practise 
another  new  virtue  to-day ;  and  so  on  without  any 
assignable  limits.  The  Bible  fixes  no  limits;  our 
nature  fixes  none ;  neither  reason  nor  imagination 
can  fix  any.  But  this  ability  involves  the  obliga- 
tion to  go  on.    If  he  stops,  no  matter  in  what  stage 


UFK  OF  (;.  W.  HEXRV. 


of  his  progress,  he  goes  backward ;  for  in  stopping 
]\c  ceases  to  improve ;  and  this  is  not  merely  not 
to  obey,  it  is  to  disobey.  He  must  go  on ;  and  thus 
it  is,  and  only  thus,  that  the  path  of  the  righteous 
grows  brighter  and  brighter  unto  the  perfect  day. 
But  we  do  not  stop  here.  A  still  higher  degree  of 
perfection  awaits  the  truly  faithful.  O,  is  it  not  a 
glorious  thought  that  we  can  begin  the  career  of 
angels  and  archangels  in  these  dwellings  of  dust, 
and  when  they  shall  be  dissolved,  "  be  clothed  upon 
with  our  house  which  is  from  heaven  ?"  But  who 
shall  dare  to  anticipate,  even  in  imagination,  tlie 
stupendous  disclosures  that  are  to  burst  upon  the  dis- 
embodied spirit  ?  Of  one  thing  we  may  be  sure, — 
a  never-ending,  ever-brightening  career  of  knowl- 
edge, improvement  and  happiness  awaits  tlie  fol- 
lowers of  Christ.  It  is  the  same  which  we  have 
begun  here ;  and  still  as  ages  roll  on  a  voice  Avill  be 
heard  along  the  innumerable  ranks  of  the  heavenly 
host  proclaiming  the  law,  "Let  iis  go  on  unto 
perfection." 


OR, 


CAMP-MEETING  HYMNS, 

OLD  AND  NEW. 


Set  to  XIT tt s i c. 


SELECTED  BY  G.  W.  HENRY, 

Al'TllOB   OF   "EGVPT,    TWILIGHT,    AND    B  E  U  L  A  H." 


Anil  ho  lialli  put  n  new  <:ong  in  niy  nioutli. — Psa.  xl,  .1. 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


THE  LIFE  OF  A  CHRISTIAX. 

A  MixTLKK  ofjoy  and  trouble  I  daily  do  pass  through, 
Sometimes  I'm  in  a  valley  sinking  dovm  with  woe ; 
Sometimes  I  am  exalted,  on  eagle's  wings  I  fly, 
I  rise  above  old  Pisgah,  and  almost  reach  the  sky. 

Sometimes  I  am  a  doubting,  and  think  I  have  no 
grace ; 

Sometimes  I  am  a  shouting,  and  Bethel  is  the  place ; 
Sometimes  my  hope 's  so  little  I  think  I'll  throw  it  by ; 
Sometimes  it  is  sufficient,  if  I  were  call'd  to  die. 

Sometimes  I  shun  the  Christian,  for  fear  he'll  talk  to 
me ; 

Sometimes  he  is  the  neighbour  1  long  the  most  to 

Sometimes  we  meet  together,  the  season's  di-y  and 
dull ; 

Sometimes  we  find  a  blessing,  with  joy  it  fills  my  soul. 

Sometimes  I  am  oppress'd  by  Pharaoh's  cruel  hand ; 
Sometimes  I  look  o'er  Jordan,  and  view  the  prom- 
ised land  ; 

Sometimes  I  am  in  darkness,  sometimes  I'm  in  the 
light; 

Sometimes  my  soul  takes  wings  ot  taith,  and  then 
speed  my  flight. 


■1 


Sl'IKlTLAL  SONUS;. 


Sometimes  I  go  a  mouiuing  down  Babylon's  cold 
stream  ; 

Sometimes  my  Lord's  religion  appears  to  be  my 
theme ; 

Sometimes  when  I  am  praying,  it  seems  almost  a 
task ; 

Sometimes  I  find  a  blessing,  the  greatest  I  can  ask. 

Sometimes  I  read  my  Bible,  and  'tis  a  sealed  book; 
Sometimes  I  find  a  blessing  wherever  I  do  look ; 
Sometimes  I  go  to  meeting,  and  wish  myself  at 
home ; 

Sometimes  I  meet  my  Jesus,  and  then  I'm  glad  I 
come. 

Lord,  why  am  1  thus  tossed,  thus  tossed  to  and  fro  ? 
Why  are  my  hopes  thus  crossed  wherever  I  do  go  ? 
O  Lord,  thou  never  changest,  but 't  is  because  I  stray ; 
Lord,  grant  me  thine  assistance,  and  keep  me  in  thy 
way. 

THE  MEAL  AND  CRUSE  OF  OIL. 

By  the  poor  widow's  oil  and  meal 

Elijah  was  sustain'd ; 
Though  small  the  stock,  it  lasted  well, 

For  God  the  store  maintain'd. 

It  seem'd  as  if  from  day  to  day. 

They  were  to  eat  and  die ; 
But  still,  though  in  a  secret  way. 

He  sent  a  fresh  supply. 

Thus  to  his  poor  he  still  will  give 

Just  for  the  present  hour ; 
But,  for  to-morrow,  they  must  live 
y  Upon  his  woid  and  power. 


sriKlTl  AL  SOXGb. 


5 


No  bam  or  storehouse  they  possess 
On  which  they  can  depend, 

Yet  have  no  cause  to  fear  distress. 
For  Jesus  is  their  friend. 

Then  let  not  doubts  your  mind  assail ; 

Remember,  God  has  said, 
"  The  cruse  and  barrel  shall  not  fail. 

My  people  shall  be  fed." 

And  thus,  though  faint  it  often  seems. 
He  keeps  their  gi-ace  alive ; 

Supplied  by  his  retieshiug  streams. 
Their  dying  hopes  revive. 

Though  in  ourselves  we  have  no  stock, 

The  Lord  is  nigh  to  save ; 
His  door  flies  open  when  we  knock, 

And  'tis  but  ask  and  have. 


A  BRIEF  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  CHILDREN  OF 
GOD,  IN  A  DIALOGUE. 

AVh.\t  poor  despised  company 

Of  travellei-s  are  these, 
That  walk  in  yonder  narrow  way. 

Along  that  nigged  maze  I 

Ah  !  these  are  of  a  royal  line, 

xVll  children  of  a  King ; 
Heirs  of  immortal  crowns  divine, 

And  lo !  for  joy  they  sing. 

Why  do  thoy  then  appear  so  mean, 
And  why  so  much  despised  ? 

Because  of  tlieir  rich  robes  unseen 
The  world  is  not  apprised. 


6 


il'lKlTl  AL  rtUMiH. 


But  some  of  them  seem  poor,  <listress'd, 
>   And  lacking  daily  bread ; 
Ah !  they  're  of  boundless  wealth  i)Ossess'd, 
AVith  hidden  manna  fed. 

But  why  keep  they  that  narrow  i-oad. 

That  rugged  thor.ny  maze  ? 
Why  that's  the  way  their  Leader  trod — 

They  love  and  keep  His  ways. 

Why  must  they  shun  the  pleasant  path 

That  worldlings  love  so  well  ? 
Because  that  is  the  road  to  death, 

The  open  road  to  hell. 

What !  is  there  then  no  other  road. 

To  Salem's  happy  ground  ? 
Christ  is  the  only  way  to  God — 

None  other  can  be  found. 


A  WARNING  TO  SINNERS. 

When  pity  prompts  mo  to  look  round 

Upon  this  fellow  clay, 
See  men  reject  the  gospel  sound, 

Good  God !  what  shall  I  say  ? 

My  bowels  yearn  for  dying  men, 

Doom'd  to  eternal  woe ; 
Fain  would  I  speak,  but  'tis  in  vain. 

If  God  does  not  speak  too. 

0  !  sinners,  sinners,  won't  you  heai-, 
When  in  God's  name  I  come  ? 

Upon  your  peril  don't  forbear. 
Lest  hf;Il  should  be  your  doom. 


.Vow  is  tlic  time,  the  acoeptfil  lionr, 

O  I  sinnei-s,  come  away  ; 
Tlie  Saviom-  *s  knocking  at  your  door, 

Arise,  without  delay. 

0  !  do  n't  refuse  to  give  him  room, 
Lest  mercy  should  withdraw  ; 

He  '11  then  in  robes  of  vengeance  come. 
To  execute  Iiis  law. 

Then  wliere,  poor  mortals,  will  you  be, 

If  destitute  of  grace. 
When  you  your  injured  Judge  shall  see. 

And  stand  before  liis  face  i 

< )  I  could  you  shun  that  dreadful  sight. 

How  woidd  you  wish  to  fly 
To  the  dark  shades  of  endless  nigiit. 

From  that  all-searching  eye  ? 

But  death  and  liell  must  all  appear. 
And  you  among  them  stand. 

r>efore  the  great  impartial  bar, 
Arraign'd  at  Christ's  left  hand. 

No  yearning  bowels — pity  then 

Shall  not  alfect  my  heart ; 
No,  I  shall  surely  say  Amen 

When  Christ  bids  you  depart. 

Let  not  these  warnings  be  in  vain. 

But  lend  a  list'ning  ear. 
Lest  you  should  meet  them  all  again 

Wlifu  wra]>t  in  keen  despair. 


SI'IRITUAI.  SOXGS. 


SAW  YE  MY  SAVIOUR  ? 

Saw  ye  my  Saviour  ?  Saw  ye  my  Sa\aour  ? 
Saw  ye  ray  Saviour  and  God  ? 

O  !  he  died  on  Calvary, 

To  atone  for  you  and  me, 
And  to  purchase  our  pardon  with  blood. 

He  was  extended  !  he  was  extended ! 
Painfully  nailed  to  the  cross  ; 

O !  he  bow'd  his  head  and  died ! 

Thus  my  Lord  was  crucified. 
To  atone  for  a  world  that  was  lost. 

Jesus  hung  bleeding  !  Jesus  hung  bleeding  ! 

Three  dreadful  hours  m  pain  ; 
And  the  solid  rocks  were  rent 
Through  creation's  vast  extent, 

When  the  Jews  crucified  God's  dear  Son. 

Darkness  prevailed  !  darkness  prevailed  ! 
Dai'kness  prevail'd  o'er  the  land  ; 

And  the  sun  refused  to  shine, 

When  His  Majesty  divine 
Was  derided,  insulted,  and  slain. 

When  it  was  finish'd — when  it  was  finish'd. 
And  the  atonement  was  made, 
He  was  taken  by  the  great. 
And  embalm'd  with  spices  sweet. 
And  in  a  new  sepulchre  was  laid. 

Hail,  mighty  Saviour !  hail,  mighty  Saviour  ! 

The  Prince  and  Author  of  Peace ! 
O  !  he  burst  the  bands  of  death. 
And  triumphant  from  the  earth 

He  ascended  to  mansions  of  bliss. 


siPIRITl  AL  SOXtiS. 


9 


There  interceding — there  interceding ! 
Pleading  that  sinners  may  live — 

Crying,  "  Father,  I  have  died  ! 

O,  behold  my  hands,  my  side ! 
O,  forgive  them,  I  pray  thee,  forgive." 

"  I  will  forgive  them  !  I  will  forgive  them  I 
If  they  '11  rei3ent  and  believe ; 
Let  them  now  come  unto  thee, 
And  be  reconciled  to  me, 
And  salvation  they  all  shall  receive." 


SCEPTIC,  SPARE  THAT  BOOK  • 

Sceptic,  spare  that  Book ! 

Touch  not  a  single  leaf  ! 
Nor  on  its  pages  look 

With  eye  of  unbelief ; 
'T  was  my  forefathers'  stay 

In  the  hour  of  agony ; 
Sceptic,  go  thy  way. 

And  let  that  old  IBook  be ! 

That  good  old  Book  of  Life 

For  centuries  has  stood 
Unharm'd,  amid  the  strife, 

When  the  earth  was  drunk  with  blood : 
And  wouldst  thou  harm  it  now. 

And  have  its  truths  forgot  ? 
Sceptic,  forbear  thy  blow, 

Thy  hand  shall  harm  it  not ! 

Its  very  name  recalls 

The  happy  hours  of  youth. 
When,  in  my  grandsire's  halls, 

I  heard  its  tales  of  truth  : 


10 


si-mnuAi.  t;o.\G.s 


1  've  seen  liis  white  hair  flow 
O'er  that  volume  as  lie  read  ; 

But  that  was  long  ago, 

And  the  good  old  man  is  dead. 

My  dear  grandmother,  too, 

When  I  was  but  a  hoy — 
T 've  seen  her  eye  of  blue 

Weep  o'er  it  teare  of  joy  ; 
Their  traces  linger  still, 

And  dear  they  are  to  me : 
Sceptic,  forego  thy  will ; 

Go,  let  that  old  Book  be  ! 


THE  GOSPEL  STEAMER. 

I  RECEIVED  a  gospel  letter, 
From  gloiy  lately  come. 
That  my  passage  over  Jordan 
Was  purchased  by  the  Lamb. 
Chorus. — Yes,  we  '11  land  on  Canaan's  shore ; 
O,  he  '11  land  us  on  the  .shore  ; 
Yes,  we  'II  land  on  Canaan's  shore, 
And  be  safe  forever  more. 

I  step'd  on  board  the  steamer 

Constructed  by  the  Lord — 
Prepared  to  sail  that  very  day 

He  spill'd  his  precious  blood  : 

Her  bulwarks  are  of  lo\e  divine — 

My  Saviour  is  the  door ; 
Our  garments  are  of  linen  fine, 

Both  lovely,  wliite  and  pure. 


SI'lKITl  Al.  SOKtiS. 


u 


Against  both  wind  and  weather 
This  glorious  steamboat  sails — 

The  Holy  Spirit  driveth  her 
With  sAveet  and  pleasant  gales. 

O,  we  have  a  band  of  music, 
That  charnieth  us  along — 

This  tune  we  play  along  the  way, 
"  Come,  sinners,  join  the  song." 

I  took  my  gospel  telescope 
To  view  the  promised  land — 

On  the  other  side  of  Jordan 
I  saw  the  precious  Lamb. 

When  I  set  out  for  glory 
I  had  Jesus  in  my  view — 

But  now  I  have  liim  in  my  heart, 
And  glory  I  '11  pursue. 

And  when  we  reach  that  happy  land 

All  heaven  will  rejoice  ; 
For  the  lovely  name  of  Jesus 

Shall  soimd  from  every  voice. 

We'll  stand  upon  the  sea  of  glass, 
All  mingled  too  with  fire — 

And  there  we'll  all  shout  victory, 
And  join  the  heavenly  choir. 


CHRIST  IN  THE  GARDEN. 

When  nature  was  sinking  in  stillness  to  rest. 
And  the  sun's  fading  beams  shone  dim  in  the  west, 
O'er  fields,  by  the  moonlight,  to  a  lonely  glade. 
In  deep  meditation  I  wandering-  stray'd. 


SPIRITUAL  SON(.><. 


While  passing  a  garden  a  sound  struck  my  ear, 
A  ^•oicQ  faint  and  falt'ring  from  one  that  was  near; 
The  voice  of  a  mourner  affected  my  heart, 
One  pleading  in  anguish  the  poor  sinner's  part. 

Tn  off 'ring  to  Heaven  his  agonized  prayer, 
He  spoke  of  the  torments  the  sinner  must  bear ; 
His  life,  as  a  ransom,  he  offer'd  to  give, 
That  sinners,  redeem'd,  in  glory  might  live. 

I  listen'd  a  moment,  then  tum'd  to  see 
What  Man  of  Compassion  this  stranger  could  be ; 
When,  lo  !  I  discover'd,  knelt  on  the  cold  earth, 
The  loveliest  being  that  ever  had  birth. 

His  mantle  was  wet  with  the  dews  of  the  night, 
His  locks,  by  the  moonliglit,  were  glist'niug  and 
bright ; 

llis  tear-bedimm'd  eyes  towards  heaven  were  raised, 
While  angels,  in  wonder,  stood  round  him  amazed. 

So  deep  was  his  sorrow,  so  fervent  he  pray'd, 
That  blood  from  each  pore  with  sweat  mingled  and 
stray'd  : 

I  wopt  to  behold  him,  and  ask'd  him  his  name  ; 
He  answer'd,  "  'T  is  Jesus ! — fi-om  heaven  I  came. 

"  I  am  thy  Redeemer — for  thee  I  must  die : 
The  cup  is  most  painful,  but  cannot  pass  by ; 
Thy  sins  like  a  mountain  are  laid  upon  me. 
And  all  this  deep  anguish  I  suffer  for  thee !" 

1  heard  with  attention  the  tale  of  his  woe. 
While  tears  like  a  fountain  of  waters  did  flow ; 
Tiie  cause  of  his  sorrow,  to  hear  him  repeat, 
Affected  my  heart,  and  I  fell  at  his  feet. 


sinRnr.M.  soxiis. 


13 


I  trembled  with  terror,  and  loiull)'  ditl  cry, 
"  Lord  I  save  :i  poor  siuner  ? — O  save,  or  I  die  !" 
He  cast  his  eyes  on  me,  and  whispered,  "  Live ! 
Tliy  sins  which  are  many  I  freely  forgive !" 

How  sweet  was  that  moment  he  bade  me  rejoice  ! 
His  smiles,  O  how  pleasant  I  how  cheering  his  voice ! 
I  fled  fi-om  the  garden  to  spread  it  abroad ; 
I  shouted  "  Salvation  I — O  glory  to  God  !" 

I 'm  now  on  my  journey  to  mansions  above, 
My  soul 's  full  of  glory,  of  peace,  light  and  love  ; 
I  think  of  the  garden,  the  prayer  and  the  tears 
Of  that  lo\nng  stranger  who  banish'd  my  fears. 

The  day  of  bright  glory  is  rolling  around. 
When  Gabriel  descending,  the  trumpet  shall  sound — 
My  soul  then  in  raptures  of  glory  A\nll  rise 
To  ga/.e  on  the  stranger  with  unclouded  eyes. 


CHRIST'S  CRUCIFIXION. 

The  Son  of  Man  they  did  betray. 
He  was  condemn'd  and  led  away  ! 
Think,  O  my  soul,  on  that  dread  day — 

Look  on  Mount  Calvary  I 
Behold  him,  lamb-like,  led  along, 
Sun-ounded  by  a  wicked  throng. 
Accused  by  each  lying  tongue, 
As  then  the  Lamb  of  God  they  hung 

Upon  the  shameful  tree  I 

'Twas  thus  the  glorious  suff'rer  stood, 
With  liands  and  feet  nail'd  to  the  wood  ; 
From  ev'ry  wound  a  stream  of  blood 
Came  tiowing  down  amain  : 


14 


SIMKIITAI.  SONCiS. 


His  bitter  groans  all  nature  shook, 
And  at  his  voice  the  rocks  were  broke, 
The  sleeping  saints  their  graves  forsook, 
While  spiteful  Jews  around  him  mockVl 
And  laughed  at  his  pain. 

Now,  hung  between  the  earth  and  skies. 

Behold  I  ill  agony  he  dies  ! 

0,  sinners,  hear  his  mournful  cries, 

See  his  tormenting  pains  ! 
The  morning  sun  withdrew  his  light, 
Blush'd,  and  refused  to  view  the  sight ; 
The  azure  clothed  in  robes  of  night. 
All  nature  mourn'd,  and  stood  affright. 

When  Christ  the  Lord  was  slain. 

Hark  !  men  and  angels,  hear  the  Son  ! 
He  cries  for  help — but  O,  there 's  none ; 
He  treads  the  wine-press  all  alone. 

His  garments  stain'd  with  blood  : 
[n  lamentation  hear  him  crj' 
"  Eloi,  lama  sabaehthani !"  ^ 
Though  death  ma)'  close  his  languid  eyes. 
He  soon  will  mount  up  to  the  skies, 

The  conq'ring  Son  of  God. 

The  Jews  and  Romans,  in  a  band, 
With  hearts  like  steel,  around  him  stand, 
And  mocking,  say,  "  Come,  save  the  land ; 

Come,  try  thyself  to  free  I"' 
A  soldier  pierced  him  when  he  died. 
Then  healing  streams  came  from  his  side — 
And  thus  our  Lord  was  crucified ; 
Stern  justice  then  was  satisfied. 

Sinner,  for  you  and  me  ! 


Sl'IRlTLAL  SONUS. 


15 


Behold,  he  mounts  tlie  throne  of  stale, 
He  fills  the  mediatorial  seat, 
While  millions,  bowing  at  his  feet, 

lu  loud  hosannas  tell 
How  he  endured  exquisite  pains, 
And  led  the  monster  death  in  chains  ; 
While  seraphs  raise  their  loudest  strains, 
With  music  fill  bright  Eden's  plains — 

Chidst  conquer'd  death  and  hell. 
'T  is  done  !  the  dreadful  debt  is  paid — 
The  great  atonement  now  is  made  ! 
Sinnei-s,  on  him  your  guilt  was  laid, 

For  you  he  spilt  his  blood  : 
For  you  his  tender  soul  did  move, 
For  you  he  left  the  courts  above, 
That  you  the  lengih  and  breadth  might  prove, 
The  height  and  depth  of  perfect  love. 

In  Christ,  yoiir  smiling  God. 
Ail  glory  be  to  God  on  high. 
Who  reigns  enthroned  above  the  sky. 
Who  sent  his  Son  to  bleed  and  die — 

Glory  to  him  be  given  I 
While  heaven  above  his  praise  resounds, 
0  Zion,  sing,  his  grace  aboinids : 
And  there  we  '11  shout  eternal  rounds. 
In  glowing  love  that  knows  no  bounds. 

When  earned  up  to  heaven. 


THE  HEAVENLY  PILGRIM. 

Dark  and  thorny  is  the  desert 

Thro'  which  pilgrims  make  their  way — 
Yet,  beyond  this  vale  of  sorrow 

Lie  the  fields  of  endless  day : 


SPIRITL  AL  SONGS. 


Fiends,  loud  howling  through  the  desert, 
,    Make  them  tremble  as  they  go, 
And  the  fiery  darts  of  Satan 
Often  bring  their  courage  low. 

O,  young  soldiers,  are  you  weary 

Of  the  roughness  of  the  way  ? 
Does  your  strength  begin  to  fail  you, 

And  your  vigour  to  decay  ? 
Jesus,  Jesus,  will  go  with  you. 

He  will  lead  you  to  his  throne — 
He  who  dyed  his  garments  for  you, 

And  the  wine-press  trod  alone  ; 

He,  whose  thunder  shakes  creation, 

He  -who  bids  the  planets  roll ; 
He  who  rides  upon  the  tempest. 

And  whose  sceptre  sways  the  whole  : 
Round  him  are  ten  thousand  angels, 

Ready  to  obey  command  ; 
They  are  always  hov'ring  round  you, 

Till  you  reach  the  heavenly  land. 

There,  on  flow'ry  hills  of  pleasure. 

Lie  the  fields  of  endless  rest ; 
Love,  and  joy,  and  peace,  forever 

Reign  and  triumph  in  the  breast ; 
Who  can  paint  the  scenes  of  glory. 

Where  the  ransom'd  dwell  on  high  ? 
There,  on  golden  harps,  forever 

Sound  redemption  through  the  sky ! 

There,  a  million  flaming  seraphs 
Fly  across  the  heavenly  plain — 

As  they  sing  inimortal  praises, 
Glory,  glory,  is  their  strain  : 


61MU11XAL  SONGS. 


17 


But,  luethinks,  a  sweeter  concert 
Makes  the  heavenly  arches  ring, 

And  a  song  is  heard  in  Zion 
Which  the  angels  cannot  sing. 

O,  their  crowns,  how  bright  they  sparkle  I 

Such  as  monaichs  never  wore  ; 
They  are  gone  to  i-icher  pastures — 

Jesus  is  their  Shepherd  there  : 
Hail,  ye  happj'',  happy  spirits  ! 

Death  no  more  shall  make  you  fear ; 
Grief  nor  sorrow,  pain  nor  anguish. 

Shall  no  more  distress  you  there. 


THE  WEARY  AT  REST. 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  before  us,  and  thy  saintly 
soul  is  flown 

Where  tears  are  wiped  from  every  eye,  and  sonow 
is  unknown ; 

From  the  burden  of  the  flesh,  and  fi-om  care  and 
fear  released, 

Where  the  Avicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest. 

The  toilsome  way  thou'st  travell'd  o'er,  and  borne 
the  heavy  load, 

But  Christ  hath  taught  thy  languid  feet  to  reach 
his  blest  abode ; 

Thou'rt  sleeping  now,  like  Lazarus,  upon  our  Fa- 
ther's breast. 

Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  arc  at  rest. 


Sill  can  never  taint  thee  more,  nor  doubt  thy  faith 
assail, 

Nor  thy  meek  trust  in  Jesus  Christ  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  fiiil ; 

And  there  tliou  'rt  sure  to  meet  the  good,  whom  on 

earth  thou  lovedst  best, 
Where  tlie  wicked  cease  from  troubHng,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 

"  Earth  to  earth,"  and  "  dust  to  dust,"  the  man  of 

God  bath  said. 
So  we  lay  the  turf  above  thee  now,  and  seal  thy 

narrow  bed  ; 

But  thy  spirit,  brothei',  soars  away  among  the  faith- 
ful blest, 

Where  the  wicked  cease  fi-om  trdubling,  and  the 

weary  are  at  rest. 
And  when  the  Lord  shall  summon  us,  whom  thou 

bast  left  behind. 
May  we,  untainted  by  the  world,  as  sure  a  welcome 

find! 

May  each,  like  thee,  depart  in  peace,  to  be  a  glorious 
guest. 

Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  are  at  rest ! 

HERE  IS  A  BAND  OF  BRETHREN  DEAR. 

Here  is  a  band  of  brethren  dear — 
I  will  be  in  this  band,  hallelujah ; 

Their  leader  tells  them  not  to  fear — 
I  will  be  in  this  band,  hallelujah  ; 
I  will  be  in  this  band,  hallelujah. 

As  I  was  walking  out  one  day. 

And  thinking  about  ihis  good  old  way. 


10 


There  was  a  voice  which  reach'd  my  soul : 
Fear  not ;  I  make  the  wounded  whole." 

My  dungeon  shook,  my  chains  fell  off — 
My  soul,  unfetter'd,  went  aloft. 

I  little  thought  he  wius  so  nigh — 

He  spoke  and  made  me  laugh  and  crv. 

Now,  bless  the  Lord !  for  I  can  tell. 
That  Jesus  has  done  all  things  well. 

O,  shout  on,  children  1  shout,  ye  're  fi-ee ! 
For  Christ  has  bought  your  liberty  I 

O,  bless  the  Lord  I  we  need  not  fear, 
Nor  o'er  our  trials  shed  a  tear. 


MARCH  AROUND  JERUSALEM. 

Mv  brother,  will  you  meet  me 

On  that  delightful  shore  ? 
-Mv  brother,  will  you  meet  me 
Where  parting  is  no  more? 
Choris. — Then  we'll  march  around  Jerusalem, 
AYe  '11  march  around  Jerusalem, 
We  '11  marcli  around  Jerusalem, 
When  we  arrive  at  home. 

O  sister,  will  you  meet  me 

On  that  delightful  shore  'i 
O  sister,  will  you  meet  me 

Where  parting  is  no  more  ? 

<")  leader,  will  you  meet  me 
On  that  delightful  shore  ? 
•2  1 


SPIlim  AL  SONGS. 

O  leader,  will  you  meet  me 
>    Where  parting  is  no  more  ? 

O  preacher,  will  you  meet  me 
On  that  delightful  shore  ? 

(  )  preacher,  will  you  meet  mc 
Where  parting  is  no  more  ? 

C)  classmate,  will  you  meet  me 
On  that  delightful  shore  ? 

0  classmate,  will  you  meet  me 
Where  parting  is  no  more  ? 

Young  convert,  will  you  meet  me 
On  that  delightful  shove  ? 

Young  convert,  will  you  meet  me 
Where  parting  is  no  more  ? 

O  mourner,  will  you  meet  me 
On  that  delightful  sliore  ? 

O  mourner,  will  you  meet  me 
Where  parting  is  no  more  ? 

Backslider,  will  you  meet  me 
On  that  delightful  shore  ? 

Backslider,  will  you  meet  me 
Wliere  parting  is  no  more  ? 

O  sinner,  will  you  meet  me 
On  that  delightful  shore  ? 

O  sinner,  will  you  meet  me 
Where  parting  is  no  more  ? 

Yes,  bless  the  Lord !  I  '11  meet  you 
On  that  delightful  shore ; 

Yes,  bless  the  Lord  !  I'll  meet  you 
Wlicrf  parting  is  no  move. 


SPIRITLAL  SONCS. 


21 


DIES  IR^, 

The  following  is  an  excellent  translation  of  a  Latin  poem,  which 
has  received  the  enthusiastic  encomiums  of  Goethe,  Dr.  Johnson, 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  other  distinguished  men.  It  is  said  that  Dr. 
Johnson  .always  wept  in  reading  the  tenth  stanza.  The  Earl  of 
Roscommon  expired  with  the  seventeenth  verse  upon  his  lips.  The 
original  was  written  by  a  monk,  in  the  thirteenth  century.  We 
find  the  translation  in  the  yetvark  Daily  Advertiser. 


Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  burning 
All  shall  melt,  to  ashes  turning, 
As  foretold  by  seers  discerning. 

II. 

O  what  fear  shall  it  engender, 

When  the  Judge  shall  come  in  .splendour, 

Strict  to  mark,  and  just  to  render  ! 

III. 

Trumpet  soatt'i'ing  sounds  of  wontler. 
Rending  sepulchres  asunder. 
Shall  resistless  summons  thunder. 

IV. 

All  aghast  then  Death  shall  shiver, 
And  great  Nature's  frame  shall  quiver, 
When  the  graves  their  dead  deliver. 

V. 

Book  where  ev'ry  act's  recorded, 

All  events  all  time  afforded, 

Shall  be  brought,  and  dooms  awaixled. 

VI. 

When  shall  sit  the  Judge  unerring, 
He'll  unfold  all  here  occurring, 
No  just  vengeance  then  deferring. 


22 


Sl'IKlTrAl.  SO.\(iS. 


VJI. 

What  shall  /  say  that  time  pending  ? 
Ask  what  Advocate's  befriending, 
When  the  just  man  needs  defending  ? 
vm. 

King  Almighty  and  All-knomng, 
Grace  to  sinners  freely  showing, 
Save  me,  Fount  of  good  o'ertiowing. 

IX. 

Think,  O  Jesu.s,  for  what  reason 

Thou  endur'dst  earth's  spite  and  treason, 

Nor  me  lose  in  that  dread  season. 

X. 

Seeking  me  thy  worn  feet  hasted, 
(^n  the  cross  thy  soul  death  tasted  ; 
Let  such  labour  not  he  wasted. 

XI. 

liighteous  .Judge  of  retribution. 
Grant  me  perfect  absolution, 
Ero.  that  day  of  execution. 

XII. 

Culprit-like,  I — heart  all  broken, 

On  my  cheek  shame's  crimson  token — 

Plead  the  pard'ning  word  be  spoken. 

XIII. 

Thou  who  Mary  gav'st  remission, 
Heardst  the  dying  thief's  petition, 
(^heer'dst  with  hope  my  lost  condition. 

XIV. 

Though  my  prayers  do  nothing  merit. 
What  is  needful,  thou  confer  it — 
Lest  T  endless  i\ro  inherit. 


SFIRITLAI,  SONGS. 


XV. 

Mid  the  sheep  a  place  decide  me, 
And  from  goats  on  left  divide  me, 
Standing  on  the  right  beside  thee. 

XVI. 

When  th'  accure'd  away  are  driven. 

To  eternal  burning-s  given. 

Call  me  with  the  bless'd  to  heaven. 

x\u. 

1  beseech  thee,  prostrate  lying, 
Heart  as  ixshes  contrite,  sighing. 
Care  for  me  when  I  am  dying. 

XVIII. 

On  thai  awful  day  of  wailing, 
JIuman  destinies  unveiling, 
When  man  rising,  stands  before  thee. 
Spare  the  culprit,  God  of  glory  ! 


WE'VE  FOUND  THE  KOCK. 

We 've  found  the  rock,  the  trav'llei-s  cried 

O  hallo,  hallelujah  I 
The  stone  that  all  the  prophets  tried — 

O  halle,  hallelujah  ! 
Come,  children,  drink  the  balm}'  dew — 

O  halle,  hallelujah ! 
'T  was  Christ  that  shed  his  blood  for  you— 

O  halle,  hallelujah ! 

This  costly  mixtni-c  cures  the  soul 
Which  sin  and  guilt  hath  made  so  foul ; 
O  that  you  would  believe  in  God, 
And  wash  in  Christ's  nicst  precious  blood 


24  Sl-IKIIT  AI,  8uxo^;. 

O  hearken,  children,  Chi  ist  is  come, 

The  bride  is  ready,  let  us  run  ; 

I 'm  glad  I  ever  saw  the  day 

That  Ave  might  meet  to  praise  and  pray. 

There 's  glory,  glory,  in  my  soul — 
Come,  mourner,  feel  the  current  roll ; 
Welcome,  dear  friends — it's  felt  to-night, 
It  shines  around  with  dazzling  light. 

And  in  this  light  we  'II  soar  away, 
AVhere  there 's  no  night  but  open  day ; 
<  )  children,  children,  bear  the  cross. 
And  count  the  world  below  as  dross. 

We  'II  bear  the  cross,  and  wear  the  crown, 
And  by  our  Father's  side  sit  down ; 
His  grace  will  feed  our  hungry  souls, 
While  love  divine  eternal  rolls. 

His  fiery  chariots  make  their  way. 
To  welcome  us  to  endless  day  ; 
There  glitt'ring  millions  we  shall  join, 
To  praise  the  Prince  of  Da\  id's  line. 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  FAREWELL. 

Adieu  !  adieu  !  I 'm  dying  now, 
A  deatli-like  chill  is  on  my  brow  ; 
My  hands  arc  cold,  my  heart  beats  fast. 
Soon,  soon,  I  '11  reach  that  heavenly  rest. 
Chorus. — This  world  is  not  my  home. 
This  world  is  not  my  home  ; 
This  world  is  all  a  wilderness. 
This  world  is  not  my  home. 


SI'IKITI  Al,  SONCb. 


■25 


Sistci-s,  why  weep  ye  ?  dry  your  teai-s ; 
Death  to  me  now  has  lost  its  fears  ; 
I  long  to  gain  tli'  eternal  shore, 
Where  there  is  joy  forever  more. 

Sisters,  when  spring  returns  in  bloom, 

0  place  my  flowei-s  upon  my  tomb ; 
And  then,  at  vesper  houi-s  so  sweet, 
Our  souls  in  unison  Avill  meet. 

Brother,  I 'm  dying :  let  me  go 
From  this  vam  world  of  guilt  and  woe  ; 
Come  nearer  to  my  side,  loved  one — 
My  eyes  grow  dim,  my  race  is  run. 

Leave  thy  loud  sobs,  O  dry  thy  tears, 
Dispel,  dispel,  those  gloomy  fears  ; 
I 'm  going  to  join  the  host  on  high. 
Where  pleasures  never,  never  die. 

Mother  and  father,  nearer  come, 

1  can  but  speak  in  whisper-tone ; 

O  let  me  kiss  your  cheeks  once  more, 
Then  say  Farewell  forever  more. 

Bright  angels  now  are  hov'ring  round, 
They  do  my  humble  bed  surround  : 
And  is  this  death  ?  O  glorious  boon  ! 
Thank  Heaven  that  we  may  die  so  soon. 

Brother  and  sisters,  nearer  come, 
Father  and  mother,  one  by  one ; 
O  let  mc  gaze  on  all  once  more, 
TIk'11  spread  mv  wings  for  Canaan's  shore. 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  SONG. 
O,  BRETHREN,  I  have  found 
A  land  that  doth  abound 

In  fruits  as  sweet  as  honey  ; 
The  more  I  eat,  I  find, 
The  more  I  am  inclined 

To  sing  and  shout  liosanna  ! 
Chorus. — My  soul  doth  long  to  go 
Where  I  may  fully  know 

The  glories  of  my  Saviour ; 
And  as  I  pass  along 
T  '11  sing  the  Christian's  song, 
I  hope  to  live  forever. 

Perhaps  you  think  me  wild. 
Or  simple  as  a  child, — 

T  am  a  child  of  glory  ; 
I  am  born  Ironi  above,' 
My  soul  is  fill'd  witli  love. 
I  love  to  tell  the  story. 
Chorus. — M}-  soul  now  sits  and  suig.s. 
And  i)ractiscs  her  wings, 

And  contemidates  the  hour 
When  the  messenger  shall  sav, 
"Coino,  ([uit  this  house  of  clay, 
And  witli  bright  angels  tower." 


THE  DYING  GIRL  TO  HER  SISTER. 

The  dream  is  past — I 'm  dying  now, 
'Phere  is  a  dampness  on  my  brow ; 
'I'he  ])ang  is  o'er — without  a  sigli 
r  'II  pass  away,  anil  sweetly  die^ 


61'I1UTCAL  SOXUti. 


•27 


But  O  !  that  paug  cost  mauy  a  sigh, 
'T  was  hard  to  part  with  friends  so  dear  ; 
But  that  is  past,  I  '11  weep  no  more, 
With  me  the  dream  of  life  is  o'er. 

And  now,  sweet  sister,  nearer  come, 
And  tell  me  of  that  happy  liome : 
Shall  I  its  pearly  gates  behold. 
Its  streets  all  paved  with  buruish'd  gold  ? 

And  in  that  clime  so  strangely  fair. 
Say,  shall  I  feel  a  stranger  there  ? 
Or,  will  their  harp-strings  sweetly  blend  ? 
To  welcome  rae,  a  child  and  friend  2 

But  softly,  sister,  softly  speak, 
And  stay  those  tears  upon  thy  cheek  ; 
Weep  not  for  me,  O  do  not  pain, 
I  would  not  wake  to  earth  again. 

Thy  hand,  so  often  clasp'd  of  old, 
Thy  soft  warm  hand  for  mine  grows  cold  ; 
And  now,  dear  sister,  let  me  rest 
My  wearied  head  upon  thy  breast ; 

And  told  thy  arms  about  my  form, 

It  shivers  'neath  Death's  dark  cold  storm  ; 

But  sing  me,  sister,  ere  I  go, 

Our  song,  our  childhood  song  you  know  ; 

And  let  its  gentle  numbers  flow, 

As  last  you  sung,  soft,  sweet,  and  low ; 

And  when  its  last  faint  echoes  die. 

And  the  bright  tears  steal  from  thine  eye, 

T  ^llall  not  heed  them  as  they  stray, 

1  sliall  be  gone,  far,  far  away. 

Then,  dearest  sister,  fare-you-weil, 

1  'm  goinir  to  lioavon.  with  Christ  to  dwell. 


BPIKITLAL  SONGS. 


THE  OLD  OAK-TRER 

Woodman,  spare  that  tree  ! 

Touch  not  a  single  bough  ; 
In  youth  it  slielter'd  me, 

And  I  '11  protect  it  now. 
'T  was  my  forefather's  hand 

That  placed  it  near  his  cot ; 
While  I 've  a  hand  to  save, 

Thine  axe  shall  harm  it  not. 

That  old  familiar  tree, 

Whose  glory  and  renown 
Has  spread  o'er  land  and  sea, 

And  wouldst  thou  hack  it  down 
Woodman,  thy  stroke  forbear, 

Cut  not  its  earth-bound  tie  ; 
O  spare  the  aged  oak. 

Now  towering  to  the  sky. 

When  but  an  idle  boy, 

I  sought  its  grateful  shade ; 
In  all  their  gushing  joy, 

Here,  too,  my  sisters  play'd  ; 
My  mother  kiss'd  me  here, 

My  father  press'd  my  hand : 
Forgive  this  foohsh  tear, 

But  let  the  old  oak  stand. 

My  heart-strings  round  thee  cling, 

Close  as  thy  bark,  old  friend — 
Here  shall  the  Avild  birds  sing, 

And  still  thy  branches  bend ; 
Old  oak,  the  storm  still  brave  ; 

Then,  woodman,  leave  the  spot- 
While  1  've  an  arm  to  save. 

Thy  axe  shall  harm  it  not. 


SPIKITI  AL  SONGS. 


20 


THE  SIEVE'S  APPEAL. 
Air — From  Greenland's  Icy  Moimtains. 

O  God,  thou  great  Creator, 

Whose  love  all  hearts  shall  own, 
Be  thou  my  Mediator, 

I  '11  bow  before  thy  throne ; 
My  master's  heart,  how  icy, 

O  warm  it  with  thy  love  ! 
Tell  him  thy  power  is  mighty, 

And  point  to  life  above. 

He  smiles  when  I  am  wTithing 

With  agony  and  pain. 
And,  though  I  cry  for  mercy, 

He  smiles  and  strikes  again  ; 
O  tell  him,  in  thy  kindness. 

That  the  All-seeing  Eye 
Perceives  him,  in  his  blindness. 

The  lash  of  torture  ply. 

8how  him,  O  God,  how  dreary 

The  "  spirit-land  "  will  be 
To  him,  where  all  the  weary 

At  last  again  are  free  ; 
And  "  slave,"  that  word  heart-rending, 

Is  blotted  from  that  sphere, 
Where,  during  time  ne'er  ending. 

No  groans  can  please  his  ear. 

Show  him  the  long  dark  ages 

He  must  remain  behind. 
Nor  haste  through  blissful  stages 

Tliat  yet  await  mankind.* 

-■  The  iuilhor  is  u  boliever  in  A.  J.  Davis's  theory  of  successive 
Rtaptes  of  hatiiiinc-s  liovoiiflor. 


30 


81'XltITUAL  SONGS. 


But,  plodding  lonely  onward, 

Remorse  his  only  friend, 
Look  sadly  to  the  future, 

To  where  his  miseries  end. 

Ask  him  if  e'er  a  blessing 

Came  from  his  mother's  tongue, 
When  words — 0  how  distressing — 

Her  heart  with  anguish  wrung  ; 
Her  son — was  he  to  leave  her, 

And  toil  on  burning  sands  ? 
Torn  from  his  home  and  kindred, 

To  die  in  distant  lands. 

And  0  !  had  he  a  father. 

Or  yet  a  sister's  love  ? 
(  )  sure  his  heart  will  soften, 

And  tears  of  pity  move  ; 
He  '11  feel  tliat  I 'm  a  brotlier, 

And  cast  the  chains  from  me — 
With  mind  and  voice  forever 

Will  shout  for  Liberty. 
RocHESTEn.  Fred.  Douglass's  Paper. 


THE  MOTE  AND  BEAiM. 

Since  meridian  light  commences, 

Pure  light 's  reveal'd  to  some ; 
If  there  still  should  be  offences, 

Woe  to  him  by  whom  they  come. 
"Judge  not  that  ye  be  not  judged," 

Was  the  counsel  Christ  did  give  ; 
And  the  measure  that  is  given, 

Just  the  saiTie  yu  will  receive. 


-iPIlUTl  Al.  SON(:«. 


Jcsiis  says,  B^meek  aiul  lowl}-, 

For 't  is  high  to  be  a  judge  ; 
If  I  would  be  pure  and  holy, 

I  must  live  without  a  grudge. 
It  requires  a  constant  labour 

All  his  precepts  to  obey  ; 
But  if  I  truly  love  my  neighbour, 

Then  I'm  in  the  holy  way. 

But  if  I  say  unto  my  neighbour. 

In  thine'  eye  there  is  a  mote ; 
If  thou  wert  a  friend  and  brother, 

Hold  and  I  will  pull  it  out. 
But  I  could  not  get  it  fairly, 

For  my  sight  was  very  dim  ; 
When  I  came  to  see  more  clearly, 

lu  mine  eye  there  was  a  beam. 

If  I  love  my  brother  dearly. 
And  his  mote  I  wish  to  erase, 

Then  my  light  must  shine  more  clearly, 
For  the  eye 's  a  tender  place. 

Others  I  have  oft  reproved 
For  a  little  single  mote  ; 

Now  I  wish  the  beam  removed — 

0  that  tears  could  wash  it  out  1 

But  charity  and  love  are  healing. 

They  afford  a  pure  light — 
When  I  saw  my  brother  failing 

1  was  not  exactly  right ; 
Now  I  '11  take  no  further  trouble. 

Since  Christ's  love  is  all  my  theme — 
Little  motes  are  but  a  bubble 
When  1  think  upon  a  beam. 


32 


IPIIUTUAI.  SON  OS. 


HE  DOETH  ALL  TIHNGS  WELL. 

I  REMEMBER  how  I  loved  her,  when  a  little  guiltless 
child 

I  saw  her  in  the  cradle,  as  she  look'd  on  me  and 
smiled ;  • 

My  cup  of  happiness  was  full,  niy  jov  words  cannot 
tell. 

And  I  bless'd  the  glorious  Giver,  who  doeth  all  things 
well. 

Months  pass'd — that  bud  of  promise  was  unfolding 
every  hour, 

T  thought  earth  had  never  smiled  upon  a  fairer  flower ; 
So  beautiful,  it  well  might  gi-aee  the  bower  where 
angels  dwell. 

And  waft  its  fragrance  to  His  throne  who  doeth  all 
things  well. 

Years  fled — that  little  sister  then  was  dear  as  life  to 
me ; 

She  awoke  in  my  unconscious  heart  a  wild  idolatry  ; 
I  worshipp'd  at  an  earthly  shrine,  lured  by  some 
magic  spell. 

Forgetful  of  the  praise  of  Him  xvho  doeth  all  things 
well. 

She  was  the  lovely  star  whose  light  around  my 

pathway  shone 
Amid  this  darksome  vale  of  tears,  through  which  I 

journey  on  ; 

Its  radiance  had  obscured  the  light  which  round  His 

throne  doth  dwell. 
And  I  wander'd  far  away  from  Him  v)ho  doeth  all 

things  well. 


SlMRlTfAL  SOXCiS.  33 

Tlmt  sUiv  went  dow^  in  beauty,  yet  it  shinetli 
sweetly  now 

In  the  bright  and  dazzling  coronet  that  decks  the 

Saviour's  brow ; 
She  bow'd  to  the  Destroyer,  whose  shafts  none  may 
■•cl: 

d  hath  told  us,  he  doeth  all 

->rrow,  as  I  stood  beside  her 

rtfeit  anguish,  when  they  told 

iernecs,  let  not  my  heart  rebel, 
he  will  restore — he  doeth  all 


SRED  HOUSEHOLD. 

31- — my  guardian,  my  guide, 

\  K>xt  oi'  my  youth, 

1  cents  of  kindness  had  taught 

111  and  truth  ? 
,  'Am  in  the  churchyard  he  lies, 
\       iiu     .<i      uite  stone  at  his  head. 
And  there  he  shall  gather  his  household  agaui. 
To  sleep  with  the  rest  of  the  dead. 

My  mother !  O  never  again  shall  I  hear 

The  sweet  mellow  tones  of  thy  voice, 
As  you  welcomed  us  back  to  the  homestead  of  yore, 

And  made  the  poor  wanderer  rejoice  I 
O  no  !  for  the  old  elm  has  lengthen'd  his  boughs, 

To  shelter  your  long  narrow  bed ; 
For  beside  our  dear  father  we  laid  you  to  sleep 

In  peace,  with  the  rest  of  his  dead  I 


34 


SPIRITUAL  SONGt^. 


O,  where  is  my  brother  ?  far^ar  from  \m  homo, 

The  stranger  has  hewn  out  his  tomb  ; 
But  I  trust  the  bright  angel  of  mercy  was  near 

To  lighten  its  terrible  gloom, — 
To  illume  the  dark  passage  that  leads  to  the  grave, 

Which  truth  from  her  torchlight  can  shed, — 
And  watches  e'en  now,  in  that  clime  of  the  South, 

O'er  the  slumbering  dust  of  the  dead  ! 

And  where  the  dear  sister,  the  pure  and  the  good, 

The  light  of  our  fireside  band  ? 
We  miss  thee,  thy  smile  and  thy  gentle  caress, 

And  the  soft  gentle  pi'css  of  thy  hand  : 
Thou  art  sleeping  in  state,  A\  here,  elaborately  wrought, 

A  railing  encircles  thy  bed — 
But  I  wish  thou  wcrt  here,  'neath  our  father's  old 
elm, 

To  sleep  with  the  rest  of  the  dead. 

But  few  of  our  dear  little  circle  are  left, 

And  scattered  exiles  are  they, 
The  dark  line  of  man  hath  witherd  tlieir  smile, 

And  mingled  their  auburn  with  gi'cy. 
I  would  that  we  all  might  be  gather'd  again, 

Where  the  elm-tree  its  branches  hath  spread, 
That  when  the  last  peal  of  the  trumpet  liath  cali'd, 

Our  father  might  rise  with  his  dead. 


THE  TEMPEST. 

We  were  crowded  in  the  cabin — 
Not  a  soul  would  dare  to  sleep  ; 

It  was  midnight  on  the  waters. 
And  a  storm  was  on  the  deep. 


SPIRITl  Ar.  SONGS. 


36 


'T  is  a  fearful  thing-  in  winter 
To  be  shatter'd  in  the  blast, 

And  to  hear  the  rattling  trumpet 
Thunder,  "  Cut  away  the  mast  1" 

So  we  shudder'd  there  in  silence — 
For  the  stoutest  held  his  breath, 

"VSTiile  the  hungry  sea  was  roaring. 
And  the  breakers  talk'd  with  Death. 

And  thus  we  sat  in  darkness. 
Each  one  busy  in  his  prayei-s ; 

"  We  are  lost !"  the  captain  shouted, 
As  he  stagger'd  down  the  stairs. 

But  his  little  daughter  whisper'd, 

As  she  took  his  icy  hand, 
"  Is  n't  God  upon  the  ocean 

Just  the  same  as  on  the  land  ?" 

Then  we  kiss'd  the  little  maiden, 
And  we  spoke  in  better  cheer, 

And  we  anchor'd  safe  in  harbour, 
When  the  morn  was  shining  clear. 


THEY  KNOW  NOT  WHAT  THEY  DO." 

Mother,  what  makes  my  father  gone 

So  very  long  to-night  ? 
You  know  he  always  used  to  come, 

Before 't  was  candle-light. 

Then  he  spoke  so  pleasantly 
When  I  met  him  at  the  gate ; 

Very  sorr)'  seem'd  to  be 

If  ho  mad"  the  supper  wait. 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


How  sweet  tbe  baby  always  smiled, 

And  gave  bei-  tiny  hands  to  go, 
When  pa  call'd  her  his  pretty  child, 

His  little  pet  you  know. 
And  when  he  took  me  on  his  knee 

To  see  the  pictures  I  had  made, 
And  hear  me  say  my  ABC, 

I  never  thought  to  be  afraid. 

And,  best  of  all,  when  Sunday  come 
How  glad  was  I  to  hear  him  say, 

"Eun,  get  your  hat,  my  little  son, 
For  we  must  go  to  church  to-day." 

But,  mother,  now  he  speaks  so  sharp, 
And  gives  you  such  an  ugly  shake, 

When  he  comes  home,  though  sound  asleep 
It  quickly  gets  me  wide  awake. 

Then  it  seems  so  very  long, 

And  lonely  too,  to  hear  you  sigh  ; 

I  always  think  my  pa  is  wrong. 

When  you  're  so  good,  to  make  you  crj'. 

Then  I  cry  myself,  and  wish 

I  knew  what  makes  him  treat  you  so  ; 
Mother,  I  Avant  to  kiss  you  now, 

Then  pray  do  tell  me  if  you  know. 

My  precious  child  !  O  must  you  know 
The  cause  of  all  my  boundless  grief. 

Making  my  bitter  tears  to  flow 
So  freely  now  for  my  relief  ? 

For  myself  I  would  not  care 

So  much  if  this  poor  heart  should  break  ; 
But,  my  sweet  children  !  must  they  share 

In  misery  that  their  parents  make  ? 


si'iHirr  Ai. 


And  must  they,  in  their  tender  youth, 
Hear  what  "they  cannot  help  but  feel  ? 

The  wretched  mortifying  truth, 
Tlie  purest  love  cannot  conceal  ? 

My  God  !  0  can  I  freely  give 

A  liealthy  tone  to  vital  powers  ? 
Or  ask  for  strength,  or  wish  to  live 

Under  affliction  such  as  ours  ? 
Yes,  I  will  live  and  suffer  on. 

My  sou,  for  God  is  good  to  me ; 
Although  your  father  treats  me  wrong. 

Yet  God  will  my  kind  father  be  I 

I  would  not  say  one  word,  I 'm  sure. 
To  make  you  prize  your  father  less ; 

'T  is  love  that  only  can  endure 

Such  burning  words  of  wretchedness  ! 

Know  then  he  drinks  tte  poison'd  bowl — 
This  is  the  cause  of  all  our  tears  I 

A  drunkard's  curse  is  on  his  soul — 
This  is  the  worst  of  all  my  fears  ! 

'Tis  scarcely  two  years  now  since  he 

Promised  before  his  God  and  men. 
With  bitter  tears  of  agony, 

He  ne'er  would  drink  a  drop  again. 
O,  how  I  wept  for  joy  to  see 

Him  look  so  smiling  when  he  came 
From  work  at  night,  so  constantly. 

And  all  the  evening  stay  at  home. 

All  me  !  those  hours  of  bliss  are  gone. 
And  I  am  doom'd  to  know  he  stays 

Where  lice  in  every  wretched  form 
Only  resounds  the  drunkard's  praise. 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


'Tis  all  in  vain — no  hope  I  sec, 

As  long  as  avaricious  man 
Takes  from  a  starving  family 

All  means  of  sustenance  he  can  ; 

Among  a  fuming,  filthy  throng, 

Will  stand,  and  press  the  cursed  cup 

To  their  lips  the  whole  night  long. 
For  them  to  drink  the  contents  up. 

Poor  murderous  wretches  !  can  they  be 
Upheld  so  long — my  God  !  my  God  !- 

Steeping  fond  hearts  in  misery, 
And  not  feel  thy  a^'enging  rod  ? 

O  spare  them  3"et  a  little  space. 

And  let  thy  power  their  hearts  renew  ; 

Teach  them  true  love  to  all  our  race — 
"  Father,  they  know  not  what  they  do ! 


PRAYER, 

There  is  an  eye  that  never  sleeps 
Beneath  the  wing  of  night ; 

There  is  an  ear  that  never  shuts 
When  sink  the  beams  of  light. 

There  is  an  arm  that  never  tires 
When  human  strength  gives  way  ; 

There  is  a  love  that  never  fails, 
When  earthly  loves  decay. 

That  eye  is  fix'd  on  seraph  throngs ; 
That  ear  is  fill'd  with  angels'  songs  I 
That  arm  upholds  the  world  on  high  ; 
That  love  is  throned  beyond  the  sky. 


Sl'lRIlLAL  SONGS. 


But  there 's  a  potoer  that  man  can  wield 

Wlien  mortal  aid  is  vain — 
That  eye,  that  arm,  that  love  to  reach — 

That  listening  ear  to  gain  : 
That  power  is  inayer,  which  soars  on  high, 
And  feeds  on  bliss  be)^ond  the  sky. 


THE  MAGNETIC  TELEGRAPH. 

Along  the  smooth  and  slender  wii'es 

The  sleepless  heralds  run, 
Fast  as  the  clear  and  li\ing  rays 

Go  streaming  from  the  sun  ; 
No  peals  or  flashes,  heard  or  seen, 

Their  wond'rous  flight  betray. 
And  yet  their  words  are  quickly  felt 

In  cities  far  away. 

Nor  summer's  heat,  nor  winter's  hail, 

Can  check  their  rapid  course — 
They  meet  unmoved  the  fierce  wind's  rage, 

The  rough  wave's  sweeping  force ; 
In  the  long  night  of  rain  and  wrath. 

As  in  the  blaze  of  day. 
They  rush  with  news  of  weal  or  woe 

To  thousands  far  away. 

But  faster  still  than  tidings  borne 

On  that  electric  cord. 
Rise  the  pure  thoughts  of  him  who  loves 

The  Christian's  life  and  Lord — 
Of  him  who,  taught  in  smiles  and  tears 

With  fervent  lips  to  pray. 
Maintains  high  conveise  here  on  earth 

With  hriglit  worlds  far  awa}-. 


40 


SPIRITUAL  SUNUS. 


Ay,  though  nor  outward  wish  is  breathed, 

Nor  outward  answer  given, 
The  sighing  of  that  humble  heart 

Is  known  and  felt  in  heaven  ; 
Those  long  frail  wires  may  bend  and  break, 

Tliose  viewless  heralds  stray, 
But  faith's  least  word  shall  reach  the  throne 

Of  God,  though  far  away. 


THE  VAUDOIS  TEACHER. 

"  The  manner  in  wliich  tlie  Waldcnscs  and  lieretics  disseminated 
tlieir  iirinciplea  among  the  Catholic  , gentry  was  by  carrying  with 
ihem  a  box  of  trinlcets,  or  articles  of  dress.  Having  entered' the 
liousc  of  the  gentry,  and  disposed  of  some  of  their  goods,  they  cau- 
tiously iiitiiiiaU-il  that  they  had  commodities,  far  more  valuable 
than  llKsi — inestimable  jewels— which  they  would  show  if  they 
cuiild  Iji;  iirotectfd  from  the  clergy.  They  would  then  give  their 
purchasers  a  Bible  or  Testament ;  and  thereby  many  were  deluded 
into  heresy."— JJemeroMS  Saccho's  Book,  A.  D.  1258. 

The  following  exquisite  lines,  suggested  by  the  above  extract, 
appeared  originally  in  the  New-England  Eeview. 

"  0,  LADY  fair !  these  silks  of  mine 

Are  beautiful  and  rare — 
The  richest  web  of  the  Indian  loom 

Which  beauty's  self  might  wear  ; 
And  those  pearls  are  pure  as  thy  own  fair  neck, 

With  whose  radiant  light  they  vie ; 
I  have  brought  them  many  a  weary  way — 

Will  my  gentle  lady  buy  ?" 

And  the  lady  smiled  on  the  worn  old  man, 
Through  the  dark  and  clust'ring  curls 

Which  veil'd  her  brow,  as  she  bent  to  view 
Her  silks  and  glitt'ring  pearls; 


SPIRITUAL  SONUS. 


41 


Au(J  she  placed  their  price  in  the  old  man's  hand, 

And  lightly  turn'd  away — 
But  she  paused  at  the  wanderer's  earnest  call, 

"  My  gentle  lady,  stay !" 

"  O,  lady  fair,  I  have  yet  a  gem 

AVhich  a  purer  lustre  flings 
Than  the  diamond  flash  of  the  jewell'd  crown 

On  the  lofty  brow  of  kings — 
A  wonderful  pearl,  of  exceeding  price, 

"Whose  virtue  shall  not  decay. 
Whose  light  shall  be  as  a  spell  to  thee, 

And  a  blessing  on  thy  way !" 

The  lady  glanced  at  the  mirroring  steel, 

Where  her  form  of  grace  was  seen, 
'\^^lere  her  eyes  shone  clear,  and  her  dark  locks 
waved 

Their  clasping  pearls  between : — 
"  Bring  forth  thy  pearl  of  exceeding  worth, 

Thou  traveller  grey  and  old — 
And  name  the  price  of  thy  precious  gem. 

And  my  pages  shall  count  thy  gold." 

The  cloud  went  off  from  the  pilgrim's  brow 

As  a  small  and  meagre  book, 
Unchased  with  gold  or  diamond  gem, 

From  his  folding  robe  he  took : 
"  Here,  lady  fair,  is  the  pearl  of  price  ; 

May  it  prove  as  such  to  thee  ! 
Nay — keep  thy  gold — I  ask  it  not. 

For  the  Word  of  God  is  free  !" 

The  hoary  traveller  went  his  way  ; 

But  the  gift  he  left  behind 
Hath  had  its  pure  and  perfect  work 

On  that  high-born  maiden's  mind : 


42 


Si'lUlXL  AL  SUiNCiS. 


And  she  hath  turn'd  from  the  pride  of  sin 

To  the  lowliness  of  trutli, 
And  given  her  human  heart  to  God 

In  its  beautiful  hour  of  youth  ! 

And  she  hath  left  the  grey  old  halls, 

Where  an  evil  faith  had  power, 
The  courtly  knights  of  her  father's  train, 

And  the  maidens  of  her  bower  ; 
And  she  hath  gone  to  the  Vaudois  vales, 

By  lordly  feet  untrod, 
Where  the  poor  and  needy  of  earth  arc  rich 

Li  the  perfect  love  of  God  ! 


THE  BIBLE. 

This  little  book  I 'd  rather  own 

Thau  all  the  gold  and  gems 
That  e'er  in  monarch's  coffers  shone — 

Than  all  their  diadems. 
Nay,  were  the  seas  one  chrysolite, 

The  earth  a  golden  ball. 
And  diamonds  all  the  stars  of  night, 

This  book  were  worth  them  all. 

How  baleful  to  ambition's  eye 

His  blood-wrung  spoils  must  gleam. 
When  Death's  uplifted  hand  is  nigh, 

His  life  a  varnish'd  dream  ! 
Then  hear  him,  with  his  gasping  breath. 

For  one  poor  moment  crave ! 
Fool !  wouldst  thou  stay  the  arm  of  death  ? 

Ask  of  thy  gold  to  save  ! 

No,  no  !  the  soul  ne'er  found  relief 
In  glittering  hoards  of  wealth  ; 


SPIKITLAL  SOMJS. 


Gems  dazzle  not  the  eye  of  grief, 
Gold  cannot  purchase  health  ; 

But  here  a  blessed  balm  appears, 
To  heal  the  deepest  woe  ; 

And  he  that  seeks  this  book  in  tears, 
His  teai-s  shall  cease  to  flow. 

Here  he  who  died  on  Calvary's  tree 

Hath  made  that  promise  blest ; 
"  Ye  heavy  laden,  come  to  me. 

And  I  will  give  you  rest. 
A  bruised  reed  I  will  not  break, 

A  contrite  heart  despise  ; 
My  biu'den's  light,  and  all  who  take 

My  yoke  shall  win  the  skies  !" 

Yes,  yes !  this  little  book  is  worth 

AH  else  to  mortals  given — 
For  what  are  all  the  joys  of  earth 

Compared  to  joys  of  heaven  ? 
This  is  the  guide  our  Father  gave 

To  lead  to  realms  of  day — 
A  star,  whose  lustre  gilds  the  grave — 

"  The  Light— the  Life— the  Way." 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  ANGELS. 

Which  of  the  petty  kings  of  earth 
Can  boast  a  guard  like  ours. 

Encircled  from  our  second  birth 
With  all  the  heavenly  powers  ? 

Myriads  of  bright  cherubic  bands. 
Sent  by  the  King  of  kings. 

Rejoice  to  bear  us  in  their  hands, 
And  shade  us  with  their  wings. 


SPIHin  AL  SONGS. 


With  them  we  march  securely  on 
Throughout  Immanuel's  gi-ound, 

And  not  an  uncommission'd  stone 
Our  guarded  feet  shall  wound. 

No  enemy  our  souls  ensnare  ; 

No  casual  evil  grieve  ; 
Nor  can  we  lose  a  single  hair 

Without  our  Father's  leave. 

Angels,  where'er  we  go,  attend 
Our  steps,  whate'er  betide — 

With  watchful  care  their  charge  defend. 
And  evil  turn  aside. 

A  sudden  thought  t'  escape  the  blow, 

A  ready  help  Ave  find — 
And  to  their  secret  presence  owe 

The  presence  of  our  mind. 

Their  instrumental  aid  unknown, 
They  day  and  night  supply  ; 

And  free  from  fear  we  lay  us  down, 
Though  Satan's  host  be  nigh. 

Our  lives  the  holy  angels  keep 

From  every  hostile  power; 
And  unconcern'd  we  sweetly  sleep. 

As  Adam  in  his  bower. 

Jehovah's  charioteers  around  ; 

The  ministerial  choir 
Encamp  where'er  his  heii-s  are  found, 

And  form  our  wall  of  fire. 

Ten  thousand  offices  unseen 

For  us  they  gladly  do ; 
Deliver  in  the  furnace  keen, 

And  safe  escort  us  through. 


Sl'lim'LAL  sSONGb. 


45 


But  thronging  round,  with  busiest  love, 
They  guard  the  dying  breast ; 

The  kirking  fiend  far  off  remove, 
And  sing  our  souls  to  rest. 

And  when  our  spirits  we  resign, 
On  outstretcli'd  wing-s  they  bear, 

And  lodge  us  in  the  arms  divine, 
And  leave  us  ever  there. 


THE  BACKSLIDER'S  RETURN. 

Once  I  loved  my  Redeemer,  his  flock  and  his  fold, 

Long,  long  ago — long,  long  ago ; 
But  alas  for  ray  love,  it  grew  languid  and  cold. 

Long,  long  ago — long  ago  ; 
I  wander'd  afar,  o'er  the  world  and  its  wilds — 
I  sought  for  its  pleasures,  I  fed  on  its  smiles, 
'Till  stung  by  the  adder  that  coils  on  its  wiles. 
Long,  long  ago — long  ago. 

An  exile  I  roam'd,  far  away  from  my  God, 

Long,  long  ago — long,  long  ago ; 

His  eye  beam'd  rebuke,  and  his  hand  held  the  rod, 
Long,  long  ago — long  ago ; 

I  felt  sad  despondency's  venomous  dart — 

It  drank  up  my  spirits,  and  poison'd  my  heart ; 

I  strove  to  forget  it,  though  keen  was  the  smart. 
Long,  long  ago — long  ago. 

But  Jesus,  to  save  me,  (he  pitied  my  falls, 

Long,  long  ago — long,  long  ago, — ) 
Swift  as  thought,  to  the  watchman  that  stands  on  our 
walls, 

{(  ) 't  was  not  long — long  ago,) 


46 


SPIRITUAL  aONOS. 


This  message  was  sped  b)'  an  angel  of  light, 
"  Go,  picture  the  practical  infidel's  plight, 
'T  will  save  that  apostate  from  hell's  deepest  night : 
Go,  preach  the  cross — watchman,  go !" 

I  heard — fled  to  Christ — soft  as  dew  ffom  above, 
Not  long  ago — not  long  ago — 

Descended  the  stream  of  his  heavenly  love — 

Sweet  was  its  flow — was  its  flow. 

With  the  heart  how  I  praise  him — his  mercy  adore, 

My  exile  is  ended — my  wanderings  are  o'er  ; 

I  stand  on  the  mount  now,  to  go  down  no  more, 
No,  never  more — never  more. 


THE  YOUNG  LADY'S  EXPERIENCK 

Yk  people,  that  wonder  at  me  and  my  ways. 
And  Avith  much  astonishment  on  me  do  gaze — 
Come,  lend  your  attention,  and  I  will  relate 
My  past  exercises,  and  my  present  state. 

The  people  I  follow  I  once  did  despise. 
And  ofttimes,  like  you,  gazed  on  them  with  surprise ; 
I  gazed  with  a  mixture  of  pride  and  disdain. 
But  still  from  their  meetings  I  could  not  refrain. 

I  ofttimes  did  j  est  at  their  sighs  and  their  groans. 
And  sometimes  in  secret  was  made  for  to  mourn ; 
Though  Aveeping  and  shouting  gave  me  such  offence, 
I  thought  it  delusion,  and  all  a  pretence. 

I  ofttimes  resolved  to  hear  them  no  more. 
But  still,  on  occasions,  would  go  as  before ; 
Although  persecution  T  still  would  return, 
But  the  spark  of  conviction  l)egan  for  to  i)urn. 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


47 


The  word,  clothed  with  power,  at  last  reach'd  my 
heart — 

I  sat  under  preaching,  and  there  felt  the  dart ; 

I  strove  to  conceal  it,  but  all  was  in  vain — 

To  pray,  weep,  and  tremble,  it  did  me  constrain. 

I  sank  down  in  sorrow ;  so  great  my  distress, 
I  lay  for  some  houi-s  almost  motionless ; 
Till  Jesus  in  mercy  his  love  did  reveal  : 
A  wonder,  a  wonder — O  how  did  I  feel ! 

My  burden  of  guilt  was  removed  and  gone, 
My  spirit  was  joyful,  my  soul  was  serene  ; 
I  stood  up  and  praised  him,  without  dread  or  fear, 
Nor  would  I  regard  it,  though  the  world  had  been 
tliere. 

My  friends  may  despise  me,  my  folks  lidicule, 
The  wise  of  this  world  may  esteem  me  a  fool ; 
But  all  their  endeavours  will  be  fruitless  and  vain, 
For  Jesus  has  bless'd  me,  and  I'll  praise  his  name. 


HOME  m  HEAVEN. 

The  Christian  pilgrim  sings, 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home ; 
The  Christian  pilgi-im  sings, 

Heaven's  my  home. 
Through  the  telescope  of  faith 
He  looks  o'er  the  river  death, 
And  exultingly  exclaims, 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home. 

Though  poverty's  my  lot. 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home  ; 
Though  poverty's  my  lot. 

Heaven's  my  homo. 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


Tliough  poverty's  my  lot, 
,  Though  the  fig-tree  blossoms  not, 
I  can  sing  the  song  of  hope — 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home. 

Though  the  world  may  me  disown. 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home ; 

Though  the  world  may  me  disown. 
Heaven's  my  home. 

Though  the  world  may  me  disown, 

I  am  little  and  unknown, 

I 'm  an  heir  to  yonder  throne — 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home. 

Through  the  dark  and  cloudy  day 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home ; 

Through  the  dark  and  cloudy  day 
Heaven's  my  home. 

Through  the  dark  and  cloudy  day 

On  Jehovah's  arm  I  '11  stay, 

And  pursue  my  happy  way ; 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home. 

O  that  every  soul  could  say, 

Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home ; 
O  that  every  soul  could  say. 

Heaven's  my  home. 

0  that  every  soul  could  say. 
If  I  die  this  blessed  day, 

1  should  rise  and  soar  away  ; 
Heaven's  my  home,  heaven's  my  home. 

THE  CROSS. 
I 'm  tired  of  visits,  modes,  and  forms, 
And  flatteries  made  by  human  worms, 
Their  conversation  flows. 


Sl'IKITLAU  SONUS. 


Tlie  tlieme  ot  Jesus'  dying  love 
Transports  my  soul  to' things  above ; 
The  hallow'd  flame  of  Jesus'  love, 
It  sets  my  soul  on  five. 

When  Jesus  tells  his  dying  love, 
Through  every  vein  my  passions  move. 

The  captives  of  his  love. 
In  midnight  shades,  on  fi-osty  ground, 
I  could  attend  the  pleasing  sound  ; 
Nor  would  I  feel  December  cold, 

Nor  think  the  season  long. 

When  he  describes  the  thorns  he  wore, 
And  tells  his  bloody  passion  o'er. 

Till  I  am  drown'd  in  teai-s ; 
Then,  with  a  sympathetic  smart. 
There's  a  strange  joy  beats  round  my  hear 
The  accui-sed  tree,  loaded  with  bliss. 

My  sweetest  balm  it  bears. 

Thus  while  I  hear  my  Saviour  God 
Count  o'er  my  sins,  a  hea\y  load, 

He  bore  upon  the  tree  ; 
Inward  I  blush,  with  sacred  shame. 
And  weep,  and  own,  and  love  the  name 
Who  knew  no  guilt,  nor  grief  his  own, 

But  bore  it  all  for  me. 

Kindly  he  opens  to  me  his  ear. 
And  bids  me  pour  my  sorrows  there, 

And  tell  him  all  my  pain  ; 
Thus  while  I  ease  my  burden'd  heart. 
In  every  wound  he  heals  a  part ; 
His  arm  embraces,  and  his  hands 

Mv  ilroopiuo-  head  sustains. 
I 


50 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


KNIGHTS  OF  MALTA. 

Come,  all  you  knights,  you  knights  of  Malta, 

Come,  say  and  do  as  I  have  done ; 
You  might  have  been  in  armour  brighter. 

Within  the  New  Jerusalem. 
Chorus. — We  are  the  true-born  sons  of  Eden, 
We  are  the  true-born  sons  of  God, 
We  wear  the  badge  and  scarlet  garter, 
The  robe  that  ancient  monarclis  wore. 

When  Moses  planted  Aaron's  rod 

All  in  one  night  that  rod  did  bud  ; 
When  Moses  smote  the  Egyptian  water 
That  very  moment  it  turn'd  to  blood. 
Chorus. — We  are  the  true-born  sons  of  Levi, 
We  are  the  true-born  sons  of  God, 
We  are  the  root  and  branch  of  David, 
The  bright  and  glorious  morning  star. 

When  Aaron  and  I  crossed  over  Jordan, 
When  the  fifth  stone  was  lifted  up, 

With  the  high-priest  and  our  grand  master, 
We  carried  the  ark  of  God  along. 
Chorus. 

It  was  in  Gilgal  our  ark  we  rested, 
And  there  we  did  receive  the  mark  ; 

The  seven  trumpets  of  rams'  horns  sounded. 
Sounded  there  before  the  ark. 

Chorus. 

Broad  is  the  road  that  leads  to  i-uin. 

Many  there  be  who  travel  in ; 
Come,  go  with  me  to  the  New  Jerusalem, 

That  is  the  place  that's  free  from  sin. 
Choriir. 


Sl'IRlTL'AL  SONGS. 


51 


THE  NAKROW  AVAY. 

Come,  ye  that  love  the  Lord, 

Unto  me,  unto  me  ; 
Come,  ye  that  love  the  Lord, 
Unto  me ; 
I 've  something  good  to  say 
About  the  narrow  way. 
For  Christ  the  other  day 

Saved  my  soul,  saved  my  soul — 
For  Christ  the  other  day  saved  my  soul. 

lie  gave  me  first  to  see 

What  I  was,  what  I  was — 
He  gave  me  first  to  see 
What  I  was ; 
He  gave  me  first  to  see 
My  guilt  and  misery. 
And  then  he  set  me  free — 
Bless  his  name  !  bless  his  name  ! — 
And  then  he  set  me  free,  bless  his  name ! 

Some  said  I 'd  soon  give  o'er — 
You  will  see,  you  will  see  ; 
Some  said  I 'd  soon  give  o'er — 
You  will  see. 
Some  time  is  past  and  gone 
Since  I  began  to  pray  ; 
I  love  the  Lord  to-day, 

Bless  his  name  I  bless  his  name  ! — 
I  love  the  Lord  to-day,  bless  his  name  ! 

My  old  companions  said, 

He 's  undone,  he 's  undone  ; 

My  old  companions  said, 
He 's  undone ; 


SPlltm  AL  ftoNliS. 


My  old  companions  said, 
'  He  is  surely  going  mad  ; 
But  Jesus  makes  me  glad, 

Bless  his  name  !  bless  bis  name  ! — 
But  Jesus  makes  me  glad,  bless  his  name ! 

Had  they  but  eyes  to  see. 

Eyes  to  sec,  eyes  to  see — 
Had  they  but  eyes  to  see, 
Eyes  to  see ; 
Had  they  but  eyes  to  see 
Their  guilt  and  misery. 
They 'd  be  as  mad  as  me. 
I  believe,  I  believe, — 
They 'd  be  as  mad  as  me,  I  believe. 

O,  had  I  angel's  wings, 

I  would  fly,  I  would  fly ; 
O,  had  I  angel's  wings, 
I  would  fly. 
Had  I  the  wings  of  Noah's  dove 
I 'd  soon  fly  home  above, 
To  greet  the  God  of  love — 

Bless  his  name  I  bless  his  name  I 
To  greet  the  God  of  love,  bless  his  name  I 

O,  could  I  hear  it  said 

From  the  Lord,  from  the  Loid — 
O,  could  I  hear  it  said 
From  the  Lord — 
0,  could  I  hear  it  said, 
My  warfare 's  at  an  end. 
My  soul  would  shout  and  sing: 
O,  farewell ;  O,  farewell, — 
My  soul  would  shout  and  sing,  O,  farewell. 


Sl'IKlTLAL  SONGS.  53 

THE  HERMIT. 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave — but  we  will  not  deplore 
thee, 

Though  sorrows  ami  darkness  encoinpass  the 
tomb ; 

The  Saviour  hath  jiass'd  through  its  portals  before 
tliee, 

And  the  lamp  of  his  love  is  thy  guide  through 

the  gloom — 
And  the  lamp  of  his  love  is  thy  guide  through 

the  gloom. 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave — we  no  longer  behold 
thee, 

Nor  tread  the  rough  path  of  the  world  by  thy  side ; 
But  the  wide  ai-ms  of  mercy  are  spread  to  enfold 
thee, 

And  sinners  nuiy  hope,  since  the  Saviour  hath 
died — 

And  sinners  may  hope,  since  the  Saviour  liath  died. 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave — and  its  mansions  for- 
saking, 

Perhaps  thy  tried  spirit  in  doubt  linger'd  long ; 
But  the  sunshine  of  heaven  beam'd  bright  on  thy 
waking. 

And  the  song  that  thou  heardst  was  the  sera- 
phim's song — 

And  the  song  that  thou  heaixlst  was  the  sera- 
phim's song. 

Thou  art  gone  to  the  grave — but 't  were  wrong  to 
deplore  thee. 
When  <!od  wjis  thy  ransom,  thy  guardian,  and 
guide ; 


54 


.Sl'IlUTL  AL  SON(iS. 


He  gave  thee,  and  took  thee,  and  soon  will  restore 
•  thee, 

Wliere  death  hath  no  sting,  since  the  Saviour 
hath  died — 

Where  death  hatli  no  stuig,  suice  the  Saviour 
hath  died. 


THE  INDIAN'S  EXPERIENCE. 

In  de  dark  wood,  no  Indian  nigh, 
Den  me  look  lieaben,  and  send  up  cry, 

Upon  my  knees  so  low  ; 
Dat  God  on  high  in  shining  place. 
See  me  in  night  wid  teary  face — 

De  preacher  tell  me  so. 

God  send  his  angel  take  me  care, 
He  come  himself,  he  hear  my  prayer, 

If  inside  heart  do  pray ; 
He  see  me  now,  he  know  me  here, 
lie  say,  Poor  Indian,  neber  fear. 

Me  wid  you  night  and  day. 

Now  me  lobe  God  wid  Indian  heart, 
He  fight  for  me,  he  take  my  part. 

He  save  um  life  before ; 
God  lobe  poor  Indian  in  de  wood, 
So  me  lobe  God,  and  dat  be  good, 

Me  pray  him  two  times  more. 

So  when  time  come,  poor  Indian  die, 
Me  go  great  Sjjirit  above  de  sky, 

And  blanket  leave  behind  ; 
Me  have  no  need  of  wigwam  dere. 
Me  better  habitation  share, 

Wid  Jesus  good  and  kind. 


CHRISTIAN'S  FAREWELL. 


A  FEW  more  days  on  earth  to  spend, 
And  all  my  cares  and  toils  will  end, 
And  I  shall  see  my  God  and  friend, 

And  praise  his  name  on  high. 
There 's  no  more  sighs,  there 's  no  more  tears, 
There 's  no  more  pain,  and  no  more  fears, 
But  God,  and  Chiist,  and  heaven  appears 

Unto  my  ravish'd  eye. 

Then,  O  my  soul,  despond  no  more — 
The  storms  of  life       soon  be  o'er, 
And  I  shall  reach  that  blissful  shore 

Of  everlasting  rest ; 
There  I  shall  see  my  Sa^-iour's  face, 
And  dwell  in  his  beloved  embrace. 
And  taste  the  fulness  of  his  grace. 

And  be  forever  blest. 

My  soul  anticipates  the  day, 
I  joyfully  the  call  obey, 
Which  summons  my  soul  away 

To  seats  prepared  above. 
The  heavenly  Canaan,  sweet  and  fail-. 
Before  my  naked  eyes  appear, 
Which  makes  me  think  I 'm  almost  there, 

In  yonder  bright  abode. 

To  earthly  cares  I  say  farewell, 
And  ti-iumph  over  death  and  hell ; 
I  '11  go  where  saints  and  angels  dwell, 

To  praise  the  Eternal  Three. 
I  '11  join  with  those  who  have  gone  before, 
Who  sing  and  shout  their  sufferings  o'er. 
Where  pain  and  parting  are  no  more, 

To  all  eternity. 


5G 


Adieu,  ye  scenes  of  noise  and  show, 

And  all  this  region  here  below, 

Where  naught  but  disappointments  gi-ow — 

A  better  w-orld  in  view. 
My  Saviour  calls,  I  '11  haste  away, 
I  would  not  here  forever  stay, 
Hail,  yc  bright  realms  of  endless  day  ; 

Vain  world,  once  more,  adieu. 

THE  MOUNTAINEER'S  FAREWELL. 
We  ha\'e  come  from  the  mountains  of  the  old 

Granite  State, 
Where  the  hills  are  so  loftj',  magnificent,  and  great ; 
Where  I've  left  kindred  spirits,  in  the  land  of  the 

blest, 

When  I  bade  them  adieu,  for  the  far  distant  west. 
O,  thy  mountains, 

O,  thy  valleys, 
In  my  own  native  State. 

0  thy  hills  and  thy  valleys  are  sacred  all  to  me, 
No  matter  what  in  lands  of  others  I  may  see ; 

1  may  view  scenes  so  sunny,  so  fair,  and  so  smooth, 
Then  I  '11  think  of  my  cottage,  that  stands  in  the 

grove. 

O  my  childhood, 

O  that  homestead, 
In  my  own  native  State. 

I  will  oft  think  of  her  who  once  was  my  pride. 
As  she  rode  upon  the  mountains,  so  closely  by  my  side ; 
O  I  sigh  for  the  days  that  never  will  come  back, 
Fo)'  she  sleeps  upon  the  shores  of  the  bold  ]\ferrimac. 

O  that  loved  one, 
O  that  graveyai'd. 

In  mv  own  native  State. 


il'IRITl  AJ.  rtOXCi; 


57 


O,  a  mother  dear  I 've  lost,  she  has  gouc  to  the  grave; 
She  was  the  greatest  blessing  that  God  ever  gave ; 
Now  I  '11  go  to  the  spot  where  buried  is  the  loved, 
And  I  seem  to  hear  her  singing  with  angels  above. 
O,  ray  raother, 

I  '11  bless  her  ashes 
In  my  own  native  State. 
i\  a  mother  dear  I've  lost,  she  has  gone  to  the 
grave — 

She  lias  left  her  orphan  weeping,  to  go  to  God  who 
gave. 


••GOOD  MORNING,  BROTHER  PILGRIM!" 
Tlie  following  is  ihe  substance  of  a  convei^ation  between  two  pi-o- 
rossors  .as  they  met;  ono  going  to.  the  other  returning  ft-om, 
OMmp-meeting,  early  in  the  morning. 

Good  morning,  brother  pilgrim  ! 
What,  marching  to  Zion  ? 
What  doubts  and  what  dangers  liave  you  met  to- 
day ? 

Have  you  found  a  blessing  ? 

Are  vour  joys  increasing  i 
Press  forward,  my  brother,  and  make  no  delay. 

Is  your  heart  a  glowing  ? 

Are  your  comforts  flowing  ? 
And  have  you  an  evidence  now  bright  and  clear  ? 

Uave  you  a  desire 

That  burns  like  a  fire  ? 
And  have  hope  in  the  hour  when  Christ  shall 
appear  ?" 

I  came  out  this  morning. 
And  now  am  returning. 
Perhaps  little  better  than  wlien  I  tirst  came  ; 


58 


spmniM.  soN(;.s. 


Sucli  groaning-  and  shouting, 
,  It  sets  me  to  doubting, 
I  fear  such  religion  is  all  like  a  dream. 

The  preachers  were  stamping, 

The  people  were  jumping, 
And  screaming  so  loud  that  I  neither  could  hear 

Either  prapng  or  preaching  ; 

Such  horrible  screeching, 
'T  was  truly  oflensive  to  all  that  were  there." 

"  Perhaps,  my  dear  brother. 

While  they  pray'd  together. 
You  sat  and  consider'd,  and  pray'd  not  at  all ; 

Would  you  find  a  blessing  ? 

Then  jiray  without  ceasing, 
Obey  the  advice  which  was  given  by  Paul. 

For  if  you  should  reason 

At  any  such  season. 
No  wonder  if  Satan  should  tell  in  your  ear  : 

'  The  preachers  and  people 

Are  all  but  a  rabble. 
And  this  is  no  place  for  reflection  and  prayer.'  " 

" '  No  place  for  rcfiection  /' 

I 'm  fill'd  with  distraction, 
I  wonder  the  people  could  bear  for  to  stay  ; 

The  men  they  were  bawling, 

The  women  were  squalling, 
I  wonder,  foi-  my  part,  how  any  could  pray. 

Such  horrid  confusion  ! 

If  this  be  religion, 
Sure  it  is  something  new  that  has  never  been  seen  : 

For  the  sacred  pages 

Which  speak  of  all  ages, 
Do  nowhere  declare  that  such  ever  lias  been." 


Sl'IIUTl  Al.  SONGS. 


59 


"  Don't  be  so  soon  shaken  ; 

If  I 'm  not  mistaken, 
Such  things  have  been  acted  by  Christians  of  old  : 

When  the  ark  it  was  coming, 

King  David  came  running. 
And  danced  before  it,  in  Scripture  we  're  tokl. 

When  the  Jewish  nation 

Had  laid  the  foundation, 
And  rebuilt  the  temple,  by  Ezra's  command, 

Some  wept  and  some  jDraised, 

Such  a  noise  there  was  raised, 
'T  was  heard  afar  off,  perhaps  all  through  the  land. 

"  And  as  for  the  preacher, 

Ezekiel  the  teacher 
Was  taught  for  to  stamp,  and  smite  with  his  hand  ; 

To  show  the  transgression 

Of  that  wicked  nation, 
And  bid  them  repent  and  obey  the  command. 

For  Scripture  quotation 

In  this  dispensation, 
Our  gracious  Redeemer  has  handed  them  down ; 

If  some  ceased  fi-om  praising. 

We  hear  him  proclaiming, 
The  stones  to  reprove  them  would  quickly  cry  out." 

"  Then  Scripture  is  wrested  ; 

For  Paul  has  protested 
That  order  should  be  kept  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  ; 

Amidst  such  a  clatter 

Who  knows  what 's  the  matter  ? 
Or  who  can  attend  unto  what  is  declared  ? 

To  see  them  behaving 

Like  drunkards  or  raving. 
And  lying  and  rolling  prostrate  on  the  ground  ; 


SPJHITL  AI.  .SON(;: 


1  really  felt  awful, 
And  sometimes  was  fearful 
That  I 'd  be  the  next  to  come  tumbling  down." 

"  You  fear  persecution, 

And  there 's  the  delusion, 
Brought  in  by  the  denl  to  draw  you  away  ; 

Be  careful,  my  brother, 

For  blest  are  none  other 
Hut  such  as  are  never  offended  in  me." 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SOLDIER. 

Enlisted  with  Jesus  to  fight  against  sin, 
O  may  I  be  valiant  the  battle  to  win  ! 
For  when  I  was  willing  with  all  things  to  part, 
He  gave  me  my  bounty,  his  love  in  my  heart. 
Chorus. — And  now  I  have  joined  the  conquering 
band, 

We  're  marching  to  glory,  at  Josus'  com- 
mand. 

He  stripp'd  off  the  garment  of  sin  I  had  wore, 
And  gave  me  a  new  one  he  had  in  his  store  ; 
Uniform,  in  appearance,  my  garment  was  grace, 
No  doubting,  no  fearing,  but  bold  in  his  ways. 

The  shoes  of  the  gospel  he  put  on  my  feet, 

The  whole  Christian  ai'mour,  to  make  me  complete ; 

Salvation  my  helmetj  my  girdle  was  grace. 

The  sword  of  the  Spirit,  the  breastplate  of  faith. 

And  now  I 'm  equipp'd  and  prepared  for  the  fight, 

0  may  I  be  careful  my  arms  to  keep  bright — 
That  when  Israel's  trumpet  shall  sound  from  afar, 

1  may  march  up  with  boldness  to  Zion's  great  war. 


iMlKill  AL  SOXG: 


01 


The  word  it  is  given ;  our  Captain  doth  cry, 
The  toes  they  are  coming,  to  arms  you  must  fly ; 
The  banner 's  unfurled,  the  standard  I  see, 
The  colours  all  stain'd  with  blood  on  the  tree. 

How  grand  are  the  armies — how  noble  they  stand — 
Their  "^Captain  is  Jesus,  he  bears  the  command ; 
Press  forward,  brave  soldiei-s,  you 've  nothing  to  fear, 
Onlv  be  valiant,  the  victory  is  near. 


THE  MISSIO^'AI^Y'S  GRAVE. 
AiE — Grave  of  Bonaparte. 

I  n-  a  lone,  silent  spot,  'neath  the  sad  drooping  willow, 
Where  the  grass  and  the  vine  matted  over  his 
grave, 

A  soldier  of  Jesus  lay  pressing  death's  pillow. 
Whose  watchword  wvis  love,  and  whose  aim  was 
to  save. 

He  sleeps  there  in  peace,  no  dangei-s  can  harm  liim. 
Though  battles  may  rage,  and  the  wild  tempest 
roar ; 

His  rest  is  unbroken,  no  sound  can  alarm  him. 
In  quiet  he  slumbers — ^liis  conflicts  are  o'er. 

The  cross  was  his  standard,  its  beauties  he  blended, 
He  otfer'd  salvation,  and  bade  all  rejoice; 

But  his  work  is  now  finish'd,  his  battles  are  ended. 
His  labours  are  over,  and  hvish'd  is  his  voice. 

His  form,  cold  and  still,  in  its  damp  bed  is  sleeping. 
The  eye  is  grown  dim  that  with  lustre  once  shone ; 

No  friends  mourning  o'er  him  in  sadn<?ss  are  weep- 
ing. 

And  the  tear-drop  of  sorrow  falls  not  on  his  tomb. 


02 


SPIRITL  AL  SONGS. 


But  soon  to  the  sliimberer  command  will  be  given, 

To  oast  ofiF  the  fetters  that  cling  to  him  now ; 
An  army  of  angels  shall  bear  him  to  heaven, 

And  garlands  of  glory  be  'twined  round  his  brow. 
While  anthems  of  praises  around  him  are  ringing. 

His  body,  immortal,  in  brightness  shall  rise ; 
While  millions  of  ransom'd  hosannas  are  singing. 

In  triumph  he  'II  enter  his  home  in  the  skies. 


THE  GOSPEL  SHIP. 

The  Gospel  Ship  has  long  been  sailing. 

Bound  for  Canaan's  peaceful  shore. 
All  who  wish  to  sail  for  glory. 

Come  and  welcome,  rich  and  poor. 
Chorus. — Glory,  glory,  hallelujah  ! 

All  the  sailors  loudly  cry  ; 
See  the  blissful  points  of  glory. 
Open  to  each  faithful  eye. 

Thousands  she  has  safely  landed 
Far  beyond  these  mortal  shores ; 

Thousands  still  are  sailing  in  her. 

And  yet  there 's  room  for  thousands  more. 

Waft  along  this  noble  vessel. 

All  ye  gales  of  gospel  grace. 
Carrying  every  faithful  sailor 

To  this  heavenly  landing-place. 

Her  sails  are  fill'd,  and  heavenly  breezes 

Gently  waft  the  ship  along  ; 
All  the  sailors  are  rejoicing, 

Glory  bursts  from  every  tongue. 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS.  '63 

Come,  poor  sinners,  get  converted, 
Sail  with  us  o'er  life's  rough  sea ; 

Then  with  us  you  will  be  happy, 
Happy  through  eternity. 

I  love  Jesus,  hallelujah ! 

I  love  Jesus — yes  I  do ! 
I  love  Jesus — he 's  my  Saviour ; 

Jesus  smiles,  and  loves  me  too. 


HEAVENLY  RAILROAD. 

The  line  to  heaven  by  Christ  was  made. 
With  heavenly  truth  the  rails  are  laid  ; 
From  earth  to  heaven  the  line  extends. 
To  life  eternal,  where  it  "ends. 
Chorus. — We  're  going  home,  we  're  going  home, 
we  're  going  home. 
To  die  no  more,  to  die  no  more,  to  die  no 
more ; 

We  're  going  home,  to  die  no  more. 

Repentance  is  the  station  then 
AVhere  passengers  are  taken  in ; 
No  fee  for  them  is  there  to  pay, 
For  Jesus  is  himself  the  way. 

The  Bible  then  is  engineer, 
It  points  the  way  to  heaven  so  clear ; 
Through  tunnels  dark,  and  dreaiy  here. 
It  does  the  way  to  glory  steer. 

God's  love  the  fire,  his  truth  the  steam. 
Which  drives  the  engine  and  the  train ; 
All  you  who  would  to  glory  ride, 
Must  come  to  Christ,  in  hiiu  abide. 


In  first,  and  second,  and  third  class, 
Repentance,  faith,  and  holiness, 
You  must  the  way.  to  glory  gain, 
Or  you  with  Christ  can  never  reign. 

Come  then,  poor  sinners,  now 's  the  tune 
At  any  place  upon  the  line. 
If  you  repent  and  turn  from  sin, 
The  train  will  stop,  and  take  you  in. 


SELLING  HEAVEN. 

"  Go,  bring  me,"  said  the  dying  fair, 

With  anguish  in  her  tone, 
"  Those  costly  robes  and  jewels  rare — 

Go,  bring  them  every  one." 
They  strew'd  them  on  her  dying  bed. 

Those  robes  of  princely  cost ; 
"  Father,"  with  bitterness  she  said, 

"  For  these  my  soul  is  lost ! 

"  With  glorious  hoi')es  I  once  was  blest. 

Nor  fear'd  the  gaping  tomb ; 
AVith  heaven  already  in  my  heart 

I  look'd  for  heaven  to  come. 
I  heard  a  Saviour's  pard'ning  voice, 

My  soul  was  fill'd  with  peace  ; 
Father,  you  bought  me  -svith  these  toys, 

I  barter'd  heaven  for  these. 

"  Take  them,  they  are  the  price  of  blood 

For  them  I  lost  my  soul ; 
For  them  must  boar  the  wi-ath  of  God 

While  ceaseless  ages  roll. 
Remember,  when  you  look  on  these, 

Your  daughter's  ieaiful  doom  ; 


65 


Tliat  she,  her  pride  and  thine  to  please, 
AVent  quaking  to  the  tomb. 

"  Go,  bear  them  from  my  sight  and  touch  ; 

Your  gifts  I  here  restore ; 
Keep  them  Avith  care — they  cost  you  much, 

Thev  cost  your  daughter  more. 
Look  at  tlieui  every  rolhng  j-ear 

Upon  my  dying  day, 
And  drop  tor  "me  tlie  burning  tear," 

She  said,  and  sunk  away. 


THE  LAST  TRUMPET'S  SOUND. 

When  the  last  trumpet's  sound  shakes  the  earth  all 
around, 

And  the  dead  shall  arise,  and  ascend  to  the  skies, 
There  to  meet  Him  who  died,  with  his  glorious  bride, 
And  to  praise  him  forever  by  Immanuel's  side. 
Chorus. — Hallelujah  to  Jesus,  Amen  and  Amen, 
AYe  will  praise  liim  forever,  again  and  again  ; 
To  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  and  Avho  Hveth  again, 
Hallelujah,  hallelujah.  Amen  and  Amen. 

There  the  apostolic  band,  witli  the  uplifted  hand, 
(iive  to  Jesus  the  praise  of  salvation  by  grace  ; 
And  the  martyi-s  who  bled,  with  their  crown  on  their 
head, 

'J'hese  from  gloiy  to  glory  by  Jesus  are  led. 

There  a  AYesley  doth  stand  in  the  midst  of  the  band, 
AYitli  liis  bright  shining  face,  praising  God  for  fi-ce 
grace ; 

And  a  Fletcher  unites  with  the  old  Israelites, 
Giving  glory  ti>  -Icsus  in  lapturous  delight. 


GG 


SPllUTLAL  SONG! 


Now  redemption  they  sing  to  their  glorious  King, 
Through  the  power  of  free  grace,  while  the  angels 
sing  bass ; 

How  it  rolls  o'er  the  plains,  in  what  glorious  strains ! 
O,  glory  to  Jesus,  forever  he  reigns. 

There,  array'd  all  in  white,  saints  and  angels  unite, 
And  in  ecstasies  gaze  on  the  Ancient  of  Days ; 
In  harmonious  lays  all  their  voices  they  raise. 
And  all  heaven  is  fill'd  with  Immanuel's  praise. 


THE  NEW  GOSPEL  SHIP. 

I  'vE  shipp'd  on  boajd  the  gospel  ship — 

Come,  who  will  go  with  me  ? 
She 's  ready  now,  she 's  all  afloat, 
Your  passage  shall  be  free. 
Chorus. — Cheer  up,  all  hearts,  the  day  it  breaks, 
The  boats  are  crossing  o'er. 
The  sun  is  up,  the  night  is  past. 
Bright  angels  throng  the  shore. 

Her  keel  was  laid  in  perfect  love. 

When  first  her  work  begun ; 
And  niodell'd  by  the  powere  above. 

And  finish'd  by  the  Son. 

Her  sails  are  made  of  linen  white. 

And  all  so  neat  and  clean ; 
Her  decks  are  laid  with  gospel  grace. 

And  season'd  hard  within. 

Hei-  sides  are  seal'd,  and  all  so  tight, 

With  perfect  skill  and  e.ase; 
Her  cabin 's  lined  with  gold  so  bright — 

Our  Captaiu  he  is  there. 


Who  do  you  tbiuk  our  Captoiu  is  } 

Or  do  you  know  his  name  ? 
'T  is  Jesus  Christ,  the  Father  s  Son — 

Was  born  in  Bethlehem. 

Sometimes  the  waves  run  mountain  high, 

And  nothing  seems  to  yield ; 
By  faith  we  steer  oin-  gospel  ship — 

'T  is  love  that  turns  her  wheels. 

We've  naii'd  our  coloui'S  to  the  mast, 

And  fiimiy  we  declare 
Wc  '11  never  stiike  while  time  doth  last, 

Or  Jesus  answers  prayer. 

The  Bible — yes,  it  is  our  chart — 

It  points  forever  true  ; 
Though  days  go  by,  and  years  are  past. 

Yet  it  is  always  new. 

You  ask  me  what 's  the  song  we  sing ; 

You  ask  me  how  we  fare : 
'T  is  glory  to  our  (iod  and  king. 

And  manna  every  hour. 

You  ask  me  where  my  ship  is  bound, 

And  what 's  the  wages  given  ? 
She  sails  the  world — yes,  all  around. 

And  anchoi-s  safe  in  heaven. 

HOME  OF  THE  SOUL. 
O  WHERE  can  the  soul  find  relief  from  its  foes, 
A  shelter  of  safety,  a  home  of  repose  ? 
Can  earth's  liighest  summit,  or  deepest  hid  vale, 
Give  a  refuge  nor  sorrow  nor  sin  can  assail  ? 

No — no  1  there 's  no  home, 
There 's  no  home  upon  earth  ;  the  soul  has  no  homeJ 


(38 


SliiiU  it  It'ine  tlic  low  oartli  and  soar  to  tlie  sky, 
And  seek  for  a  home  in  the  mansions  on  high  ? 
In  the  bright  reahns  of  bHss  will  a  dwellino;  be  given, 
And  the  soul  find  a  home  in  the  glory  of  heaven? 

Yes — yes — there 's  a  home ; 
There's  a  home  in  high  heaven — the  soul  has  a  home. 

O  holy  and  sweet  its  rest  shall  be  there  I — 
Free  forever  from  sin,  and  soi'row,  and  care  ; 
And  the  loud  hallelujahs  of  angels  shall  rise, 
To  welcome  the  soul  to  its  home  in  the  skies; 

Home — home — home  of  the  soid, 
The  bosom  of  Ood  is  the  home  of  the  soul. 


UUll  BUiS'DACiE  IT  SHALL  END. 

(Juit  bondage  it  shall  end  by  and  by, 

From  Egypt's  yoke  set  free  ; 

Hail  the  glorious  jubilee, 
And  to  Canaan  we'll  return  by  and  by. 

Our  l^eliverer  he  shall  come  by  and  by. 
And  our  sorrows  have  an  end, 
With  our  threescore  years  and  ten, 

And  vast  glory  crown  the  day  by  and  by. 

Though  our  enemies  are  strong,  we'll  go  on ; 

Though  our  hearts  dissolve  with  fear, 

Lo  '.  Sinai's  God  is  near, 
While  the  fiery  pillar  moves  we'll  go  on. 

Though  Marah  has  hitler  streams,  we'll  go  on; 

Though  Ikca's  vale  be  dry, 

And  the  land  yield  no  suppl}-. 
To  a  land  of  (  urn  and  wine  we  '11  go  on. 


SI'lKlll  AL  SONGS. 


69 


And  when  to  Jordan's  floods  we  are  come, 

Jehovah  rules  the  tide, 

And  the  waters  he  '11  divide, 
And  the  ransom'd  host  shall  shout,  we  are  come. 

Then  fiiends  shall  meet  again  who  have  lo\ecl, 

Our  embraces  shall  be  sweet, 

At  the  dear  Redeemer's  feet. 
When  we  meet  to  part  no  more  who  have  loved. 

Then  with  all  the  happy  throng  we  '11  rejoice, 

Shouting  glory  to  our  King, 

Till  the  vaults  of  heaven  ring. 
And  through  all  eternity  we  '11  rejoice. 


LAY  UP  NEARER,  BROTHER. 

Tlie  New-Englaud  Diadem  gives  its  readers  the  following  beauti- 
ful stanzas,  which  were  suggested  by  hearing  read  au  extract  of  a 
letter  from  Capt.  Chase,  giving  an  account  of  the  sickness  and  death 
of  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Brown  Owen,  w  ho  died  on  his  passage  to 
California.  Wc  have  seldom  met  anything  so  painfully  interesting 
iu  every  line,  and  it  will  be  read  with  "  tearful  eyes"  by  many  who 
have  lost  brothers,  fathers,  husbands,  or  sons  on  their  way  to,  or 
after  having  reached,  the  land  of  gold  and  of  graves. 

Lay  up  nearer,  bi'othor,  nearer  ; 

For  my  limbs  are  growing  cold. 
And  thy  presence  seemeth  dearer 

When  thy  arais  around  me  fold. 
T  am  dying,  brother,  dying. 

Soon  you  '11  miss  me  in  your  berth  ; 
For  my  form  will  soon  be  lying 

'Neath  the  ocean's  bi-iny  suif. 


Hearken  to  me,  brother,  hearken  ; 
I  have  something  I  would  say 


sriRlTUAL  SONGS. 


Ere  the  veil  my  vision  darken, 

And  I  go  from  hence  away : 
I  am  going,  surely  going, 

But  my  hope  in  God  is  strong ; 
I  am  willing,  brother,  knowing 

That  he  doeth  nothing  wrong. 
Tell  my  father,  when  you  gi-eet  him. 

That  in  death  I  pray'd  for  him — 
Pray'd  that  I  might  one  day  meet  him 

In  a  world  that 's  free  from  sin ; 
Tell  my  mother,  (God  assist  her 

Now  that  she  is  growing  old,) — 
Tell,  her  child  would  glad  have  kiss'd  her 

When  his  lips  grew  pale  and  cold. 
Listen,  brother,  catch  each  whisper, 

'T  is  my  wife  I 'd  speak  of  now  : 
Tell.  O !  tell  her  how  I  miss'd  her. 

When  the  fever  burn'd  my  brow  ; 
Tell  her,  brother,  (closely  listen, 

Do  n't  forget  a  single  word,) 
That  in  death  my  eyes  did  glisten 

With  the  tears  her  mem'ry  stirr'd. 
Tell  her  she  must  kiss  my  children. 

Like  the  kiss  I  last  impressed  ; 
Hold  them  as  when  last  I  held  them, 

Folded  closely  to  my  breast ; 
Give  them  early  to  their  Maker, 

Putting  all  her  trust  in  God, 
And  he  never  will  forsake  her. 

For  he's  said  so  in  his  word. 
O,  my  children  !    Heaven  bless  them  ! 

They  were  all  my  life  to  me ; 
Would  I  could  once  more  caress  them 

Ere  I  sink  beneath  the  sea  ; 


si'iuni  .VI.  soN-(iS. 

'T  was  for  them  I  eross'd  the  ocoan, 
What  mv  hopes  were  I  '11  not  tell, 

But  I've  gain'd  an  orphan's  portion. 
Yet  He  doeth  all  thhigs  well. 

Tell  my  sister  I  remember 

Ev  rv  kindly  parting  word, 
And  my  heart  has  been  kept  tender  ^ 

By  the  thoughts  their  mem'ry  stirr  d  ; 
Tell  them  I  ne'er  i-each'd  the  haven 

Where  I  sought  the  "  precious  dust," 
But  I  gain'd  a  port  called  Heaven, 

Where  the  gold  will  never  rust. 

Urf^e  them  to  secure  an  entrance, 

For  they  '11  find  their  brother  there  ; 
Faith  in  Jesus  and  repentance. 

Will  secure  for  each  a  share. 
Hark  1  I  hear  my  Saviour  speaking, 

'T  is  his  voice  I  know  so  well ; 
When  I 'm  gone,  O  do  n't  be  weeping. 

Brother,  here 's  my  last  tarewetx  1 


THE  HAPPY  ilAN. 
How  happy  is  the  man  who  has  chosen  wisdom's 
ways. 

And  measures  out  his  span  to  his  God  in  prayer 

and  praise ; 
His  God  and  his  Bible  are  all  he  desires, 
To  holiness  of  heart  he  continually  aspires  ; 
In  poverty  he  is  happy,  for  he  knows  he  has  a  Friend 
That  never  will  forsake  him,  though  the  world  shall 

have  an  end. 


72 


.smHITUAL  SOXtiS. 


He  rises  in  the  morning,  with  the  lark  he  tunes  his 
lays, 

And  offers  up  his  tribute  to  his  God  in  prayer  and 
praise ; 

And  then  to  his  labour  cheerfully  repairs. 
In  confidence,  believing  that  his  God  will  hear  his 
prayers ; 

AYhatever  he  engages  in,  at  home  or  abroad, 
His  object  is  to  honour  and  to  glorify  God. 

And  thus  you  iiave  his  history  through  life  from 

day  to  day — 
Religion  is  no  mystery  to  him,  it  is  a  beaten  way  ; 
And  when  on  his  pillow  he  lies  down  to  die. 
In  hope  he  rejoices,  for  he  knows  his  Saviour's  nigh ; 
And  when  life's  lamp  is  flickering,  his  soul  on  wings 

of  love 

Flios  away  to  realms  of  glory,  there  to  reign  with 
Christ  above. 


THE  WIFE. 

She  clung  to  him  with  woman's  love, 

Like  ivy  to  the  oak. 
Whilst  o'er  his  head,  with  crushing  force. 

Earth's  chilling  tempests  broke. 

And  Avhen  the  world  look'd  cold  on  him. 
And  blight  hung  o'er  his  name. 

She  soothed  his  cares  with  woman's  love. 
And  bade  him  rise  again. 

When  care  had  fuiTow'd  o'er  his  brow. 
And  clouded  his  young  hours. 

She  wove,  amidst  his  crown  of  thorns, 
A  wreath  of  love's  own  flow'i-s. 


73 


And  never  iliJ  that  wreath  decay, 
Or  the  bright  flow'ret  wither, 

For  woman's  tears  e'er  nourish'd  them, 
That  they  might  l)loom  forever. 

'T  is  ever  thus  with  woman's  love. 
True  till  lil-'s  storms  have  pass'cl ; 

And,  like  the  vine  around  the  tree, 
//  braves  them  to  the  last. 


WHEN  JOSEI'lI  HIS  BRETHREN  BEHELD. 
WiiEX  Joseph  his  brethren  beheld, 

Afflicted  and  trembling  with  fear. 
His  lieart  with  cumpassion  was  fill'd. 

For  weeping  he  c  ould  not  forbear. 
Awhile  his  behaviour  was  rough. 

To  bring  their  past  sins  to  their  mind. 
But  wlien  they  were  humbled  enough. 

He  hasten'd  to  show  himself  kind. 

How  Httle  they  thought  it  was  he 

Whom  they  had  ill-treated  and  sold ! 
How  great  their  confusion  must  be 

As  soon  as  his  name  he  had  told  I 
''I'm  Joseph  your  brother,"  he  said, 

'•  And  still  to  my  heart  you  are  dear ; 
You  sold  me,  and  "thought  I  was  dead. 

But  God,  for  your  sakes,  sent  me  here." 

Though  gTcatly  distressed  before. 

When  charged  with  purloining  the  cup, 

Thcv  now  were  confounded  much  more — 
Not  one  of  tliem  durst  to  look  up. 


"(Jan  Joseph,  whom  wo  would  hnxo  slain, 

>  Forgive  us  tlie  evil  we  did  ? 
And  will  he  our  households  maintain  ? — 
O  this  is  ii  brother  indeed  !" 

Thus  dragg'd  by  niy  conscience  I  came, 

And  laden  with  guilt,  to  the  Lord, 
Surroiuided  with  terror  and  shame, 

Unable  to  utter  a  word. 
At  fii'st  he  look VI  stern  and  severe  ; 

What  anguish  then  j)ierced  my  heart ; 
Expecting  each  moment  to  hear 

The  sentence,  "  Thoii  cursed,  depart !" 

But  O !  what  surprise  wlien  he  spoke, 

While  tenderness  beam'd  in  his  face  ; 
My  heart  tlien  to  pieces  was  broke, 

O'erwhelm'd  and  confounded  by  grace. 
"  Poor  sinner,  I  know  thee  full  well — 

By  thee  I  was  sold  and  was  slain ; 
But  I  died  to  i-edeem  tliee  from  hell, 

And  raise  thee  in  glory  to  reign. 

"  I 'm  .Jesus,  whom  thou  hast  blaspliemed. 

And  crucified  often  afresh  ; 
But  let  me  lienceforth  be  esteem'd 

Thy  brother,  thy  bone  and  thy  flesh  ; 
My  pardon  I  freely  bestow, 

Thy  wants  I  will  fully  supply  ; 
I  '11  guide  thee  and  guard  thee  below, 

And  soon  will  remove  thee  on  high." 

"  Go,  publish  to  sinners  around. 
That  they  may  be  willing  to  come, 

The  mercy  which  now  you  have  found, 
And  tell  them  that  yet  there  is  room.'' 


SPIIliri  Al.  SONCJS. 


O,  sinners,  the  message  obey  I 
No  more  vain  excuses  pretend ; 

But  come,  without  further  delay. 
To  Jesus,  our  brother  and  friend. 


A  CALL  TO  SINNERS. 

O,  CARELESS  sinner,  come, 

Pray  now  attend ; 
Tliis  world  is  not  your  home, 
It  soon  will  end ; 
Jehovah  calls  aloud.  Forsake  the  thoughtless  crowd. 
Pursue  the  road  to  God  and  happy  bo. 

No  happiness  you'll  find 

\Yhile  thus  you  go. 
No  fear  unto  your  inind  ; 
But  fear  and  woe 
Attend  you  ev'ry  day,  while  far  from  God  you  stray, 
O,  sinners,  come  away  and  happy  be. 

Nor  do  I  call  alone  ; 

The  Saviour  too. 
E'en  with  bis  dying  groans. 
Cries,  Bid  adieu 
To  sin  and  folly  now,  and  to  his  sceptre  bow, 
And  he  will  tell  you  how  to  Hve  anew. 

But  if  you  still  refuse, 

Down,  down  )'ou  '11  go. 
And  with  the  wicked  Jews 
The  road  to  woe. 
Alas  !  how  can  you  slight  the  rays  of  gospel  light, 
And  sink  in  endless  night,  whore  silence  reigns. 


70  Sl'IlilTl  AI.  si)N(iS. 

I  bid  3'ou  all  farewell 

With  aching  heart, 
And  in  deep  sorrow  tell 

That  we  must  part, 
While  on  to  heav'n  w  e  go,  and  you  are  bound  to 
woe, 

Alas  !  it  must  be  so,  if  you  rebel. 

T  look  on  you  again, 

And  hoping  say, 
Why  won't  you  leave  your  sins, 
And  come  away 
From  Satan's  cruel  pow'r,  and  live  forever  more. 
And  bless  tlie  joyful  hour  when  life  began. 

All  hail !  we  welcome  then 

Your  hap]iy  flight 
Fi-ora  Kedar's  tents  of  sin 
To  glory  bright. 
We'll  travel  on  with  you,  and  bid  the  world  adieu, 
And  endless  joys  pui-sue  till  all  is  ours. 

Then  we  will  range  around 

The  peaceful  plains. 
Where  pleasure  hath  no  boxmds, 
Whei'e  glory  reigns. 
We  '11  fall  at  Jesus'  feet,  where  joys  are  all  complete, 
And  in  sweet  raptures  meet,  to  part  no  more. 


THE  SACRIFICE. 

The  morning  sun  rose  bright  and  clear. 
On  Abraham's  tent  it  gaily  shone, 

And  all  was  bright  and  cheerful  there, 
All  save  the  patriarch's  heart  alone. 


si'IRITl  Al.  SONGS. 


While  God's  command  arose  to  mind, 

It  forced  into  his  eye  a  tear ; 
Although  his  soul  was  all  resign'd, 

Yet  nature  fondly  linger'd  there. 

The  simple  morning  feast  -was  spread, 

2\.nd  Sarah  at  the  banquet  smiled ; 
Joy  o'er  her  ftice  its  lustre  spread, 

For  near  her  sat  her  only  child. 
The  charms  that  pleaesd  a  monarch's  eye, 

Upon  her  cheek  had  left  their  trace ; 
His  highly-augur'd  destiny 

Was  written  on  his  heavenly  face. 

The  groaning  father  turn'd  away, 

And  walk'd  the  inner  tent  apart ; 
He  felt  his  fortitude  decay, 

While  nature  whisper'd  in  his  heart : 
O  1  must  this  son,  to  whom  was  given 

The  promise  of  a  blessed  land, 
Heir  to  the  choicest  gifts  of  Heaven, 

Be  slain  by  a  tbnd  lather  s  hand  ? — 

This  son,  for  whom  my  eldest  born 

Was  sent  an  outcast  from  his  home, 
And  in  some  wilderness  forlorn 

A  savage  exile  doom'd  to  roam  ! 
But  shall  a  feeble  worm  rebel, 

And  murmur  at  a  father  s  rod  ? 
Shall  he  be  backward  to  fulfil 

The  known  and  certain  will  of  God  ? 

Arise,  my  son  I  the  cruet  fill. 

And  store  the  scrip  with  due  supplies  ; 
For  we  must  seek  Moriah's  hill 

And  offer  there  a  sacrifice. 


SPIRITl-AL  SOXOS. 

The  mother  raised  a  speaking  eye, 
,   And  all  a  mother's  soul  was  there ; 
She  fear'd  the  desert  drear  and  diy, 
She  fear'd  the  savage  lurking  there. 

Abrah'm  beheld,  and  made  reply  ; 

On  Him  from  whom  our  blessings  flow, 
My  sister,  we  by  faith  rely  ; 

'T  is  God's  command,  and  Ave  must  go. 
The  duteous  son  in  haste  obey'd, 

The  scrip  was  fiU'd,  the  mules  prepared. 
And  with  the  third  day's  twilight  shade 

Moriah's  lofty  hill  appear'd. 

The  menials  they  at  distance  wait, 

Alone  ascend  the  son  and  sire. 
The  wood  on  Isaac's  shoulder  laid, 

The  wood  to  build  his  funeral  pyre. 
No  passions  sway'd  the  father's  mind. 

He  felt  a  calm,  a  death-like  chill ; 
His  soul  was  chaste  and  all  resign'd, 

Bow'd  meekly,  though  he  shudder'd  still. 

While  on  the  mountain's  brow  they  stood, 

With  smiling  wonder  Isaac  cries  : 
My  father,  lo !  the  fire  and  wood, 

But  where 's  the  lamb  for  sacrifice  ! 
The  Holy  Spirit  stay'd  his  mind. 

While  Abrah'm  answer'd  low  and  calm. 
With  steady  voice,  and  look  resign'd, 

God  will  himself  provide  the  lamb. 

But  lo !  the  father  bound  his  son. 
And  laid  him  on  the  funeral  pile  ; 

And  then  stretch'd  forth  his  trembling  hand. 
And  took  the  knife  to  slay  his  child. 


While  Abrali'm  raised  the  blade  full  high, 
To  execute  his  God's  command, 

An  angel's  voice,  as  from  the  sky, 
Cried,  Abrah'm,  spare  thine  only  son. 

But  let  no  pen,  profane  like  mine. 

On  holiest  themes  too  rashly  dare  ; 
Turn  to  the  Book  of  books  di^^ne, 

And  read  the  precious  promise  there. 
Ages  on  ages  roll'd  away. 

At  length  the  hour  ap^winted  came, 
When,  on  the  mountain  Calvary, 

God  did  himself  pro\nde  the  Lamb. 


DAXIEL  m  THE  LIONS'  DEK 
Amosg  the  Jewish  nations  one  Daniel  there  was 
found, 

Whose  unexampled  piety  astonish'd  all  aroimd  ; 
Tliey  saw  him  very  pious  and  faithful  to  the  Lord, 
Three  times  a  day"he  bowed  to  supplicate  his  God. 

Among  the  king's  high  princes  this  Daniel  was  the 
°  first. 

The  king  preferr'd  the  spirit  this  Daniel  did  possess  ; 
His  unexampled  piety  provoked  their  jealousy, 
The  princes  sought  his  ruin, — obtain'd  a  firm  decree. 

Should  any  man  or  woman  a  supplication  bring. 
For  thirty  days  ensuing,  save  unto  thee,  O  king. 
To  any  lord  or  master,  or  any  other  man. 
They  should  without  distinction  fall  in  the  lions'  den. 

But  now  when  Daniel  heard  it,  straight  to  his  house 
he  went, 

To  beg  his  God's  protection — 'twas  all  his  whole 
intent ; 


80 


8PIK1TIAL  SUNtlS. 


His  windows  being  open,  before  his  God  he  bow'd ; 
The  .princes  were  assembled,  they  saw  him  worship 
God. 

They  came  to  King  Darius  and  spake  of  liis  decree, 
.Saying,  That  Hebrew  Daniel  doth  nothing  care  for 
thee : 

Before  his  God  he  boweth  three  times  in  every  day, 
With  all  his  ^vindows  open,  and  we  have  heard  him 
pray. 

Now  when  Darius  heard  it,  his  soul  did  sore  lament ; 
He  set  his  heart  on  Daniel,  the  sentence  to  prevent : 
The  princes  then  assembled  and  to  the  king  they 
said, 

Remember  your  great  honour,  likewise  the  laws  you 
made. 

Darius  then  commanded  that  Daniel  should  be 
brought. 

And  cast  into  the  lions'  den,  because  the  Lord  he 
sought ; 

The  king  then  said  to  Daniel,  That  God  whom  you 
adore. 

Will  save  you  from  the  lions,  and  bless,  you  ever- 
more. 

T'he  king  went  to  his  palace  and  fasted  all  the  night, 
He  neither  ate  nor  drank,  nor  in  music  took  delight ; 
So  early  the  next  morning  he  stole  along  the  way, 
And  came  unto  the  lions'  den,  where  this  bold  He- 
brew lay. 

Then  with  a  voice  of  mourning,  to  Daniel  cried 
aloud, 

Saying,  O  Daniel.  Daniel,  thou  servant  of  the  Lord, 


.Sl'lKllLAL  SUNGp.  81 

Is  not  til y  ( iod  sufficient  for  to  deliver  thee  '. — 
That  God  in  whom  thou  trnstest  and  serve  con- 
tinually. 

My  God  hath  sent  his  angel  and  shut  the  lions' 
jaws, 

80  that  they  have  not  hurt  me  uiy  enemies  they 
saw. 

Then  straight  the  king  commanded  to  take  him  out 
the  den  ; 

Ik'oause  in  God  he  trusted,  no  harm  was  found  in 
liim. 

See  liow  the  faithful  Uauiel  fearVl  not  the  face  of 
clay — 

"T  was  not  the  king's  commandment  that  made  hini 

cease  to  pray ; 
He  knew  that  God  was  with  him,  to  save  his  soul 

from  deatli  ; 

He  trusted  in  Jehovah,  and  pray'd  at  every  breath. 

SECON'D  PART. 

Darius  then  commanded  tliose  wretches  to  b(j 
brought 

Who  had,  with  so  much  boldness,  the  life  of  Daniel 
sought ; 

On  women,  men  and  children  the  sentence  being 
pass'd, 

Among  the  angry  lions  those  sinnei's  then  were  cast. 

The  lions  rush'd  with  vengeance  upon  those  wicked 
men, 

.Vnd  tore  them  all  to  pieces  ere  they  to  the  bottom 
came  : 

Thus  God  will  save  his  cliildreii  who  put  their  trust 
in  him, 

And  punish  (heir  ntVfiideis  with  agonies  extreme. 


82  SPIRITUAL  bONGb. 

'T  was  then  a  proclamation  Darius  issued  forth, 
Commanding  all  the  people  that  dwelt  upon  the 
earth, 

To  fear  the  God  of  Daniel,  for  he's  the  living  God, 
Whose  kingdom  is  forever,  and  shall  not  be  de- 
stroy Vl. 

lie  maketh  signs  and  wonders  in  heaven  and  on 
earth. 

Who  hath  deliverVl  Daniel,  and  shut  the  lions' 
mouth ; 

Who  sa\ed  the  Hebrew  thildren  when  cast  into  the 
flame ; 

AVho  is  tlie  God  of  heaven,  and  spreads  his  wide 
domain. 

This  Daniel's  (iod  is  gracious  to  all  his  children 
dear ; 

He  gives  them  consolation,  and  tells  them  not  to 
fear ; 

lie's  promised  to  supjiort  them,  and  bring  llicm 

safe  to  dwell 
Eternally  in  heaven,  but  dooms  their  foes  to  hell. 

llark,  sinners  !  hear  the  gospel,  it  says  to  j  ou  re- 
pent ; 

Come,  try  a  bleeding  Saviour,  for  you  his  blood  was 
spilt ; 

He  died  to  purchase  pardon,  that  we  might,  by  his 
power, 

Escape  the  roaring  lion  tiiat  seeks  us  to  devour. 

O  will  you  be  persuaded,  by  one  who  lo\  es  your  soul. 
To  turn  and  seek  salvation,  with  Christ  in  heaven  to 
<lwel! ; 


:Sl>IKnL'AI.  SONUS. 


S3 


Come,  serve  the  (toiI  ol'  l>aiiiel,  't  is  Jesus  bids  you 
come, 

You  '11  find  a  hearty  welcome  in  Christ  the  bleedinc; 
Lamb. 

(rlory  to  God  !  0  glory  !  for  his  redeeming  love  ; 
Religion  makes  us  happy  here,  and  will  in  worlds 
above  ; 

We  '11  sing  bright  hallelujahs,  and  join  the  holy 
song, 

With  Moses,  Job,  and  Daniel,  ;ind  all  the  heavenly 
throng. 

WHITHER  GOEST  THOU.  I'lLGRIM  STRANGER? 

WiiiTHEK  goest  thou,  pilgrim  stranger, 
Wand'ring  through  this  lonely  vale  i 
Know'st  thou  not  'tis  full  of  danger? 
And  will  not  thy  courage  fail  ? 
Chorus. — No,  I 'm  bound  for  the  kingdom, 
AYill  you  go  to  glory  with  me  ? 
O  hallelujah  !  O  hallelujah ! 

I 'm  bound  for  the  kingdom, 
Will  you  go  to  glory  \rith  me  ? 
O  hallelujah  !  O  hallelujah  ! 

Pilgrim  thou  hast  justly  call'd  me, 
Passing  through  a  waste  so  wide  ; 

But  no  harm  will  e'er  befall  me 

While  I'm  bless'd  with  such  a  guide. 
For  I 'm  bound,  &c. 

Such  a  guide  I — no  guide  attends  thee, 
Hence  for  thee  my  fears  arise  ; 

If  some  guardian  pow'r  befriend  thee, 
"T  is  unseen  by  mortal  eyes. 
O,  I'm  bound,  <fec. 


H4 


sl'UilTVAl.  SOXtJS. 


Yes,  unseen ;  but  still  believe  me, 

Such  a  guide  my  steps  attend  ; 
He  'II  in  ev'ry  strait  relieve  me. 

He  will  guide  me  to  the  end. 
For  I 'm  bound,  &c. 
Pilgrim,  see  that  stream  before  thee, 

Darkly  winding  through  the  vale  ; 
Should  its  deadly  waves  roll  o'er  thee, 

Would  not  then  thy  courage  fail  ? 
No,  I 'm  bound,  ifec. 

No,  that  stream  has  nothing  frightful, 

To  its  brink  my  steps  I  '11  bend ; 
Thence  to  plunge 't  will  he  delightful. 

There  my  pilgrimage  will  end. 
For  I 'm  bound,  &c. 
While  I  gazed,  with  speed  surprising 

Down  the  stream  she  plung'd  fi-om  sight ; 
Gazing  still,  I  saw  her  rising 

Like  an  angel  clothed  with  light. 
O,  I 'm  bound,  &c. 
Cease,  my  heart,  this  mournful  crying. 

Death  will  burst  this  sullen  gloom  ; 
Soon  my  spirit,  flutt'riug,  flying, 

Will  be  borne  beyond  the  tomb. 
For  I  'ni  bound,  &c. 


DANIEL'S  WISDOM. 

Daniel's  wisdom  may  I  know, 
Stephen's  faith  and  spirit  show  ; 
John's  divine  communion  feel, 
Moses'  meekness,  Joshua's  zeal ; 
Run  like  the  unwearied  Paul, 
Win  the  day  and  conquer  all. 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


85 


Mary's  love  may  I  possess, 
Lydia's  tender-lieavtedness ; 
Peter's  ardent  spirit  feel, 
James's  faith  by  works  reveal : 
Like  young  Timothy,  may  I 
Ev'ry  sinfiil  passion  fly. 

Job's  submission  may  I  show, 
David's  true  devotion  know  ; 
Samuel's  call  O  may  I  hear, 
Lazarus'  happy  portion  share ; 
Let  Isaiah's  hallow'd  fii-e 
All  my  new-born  soul  inspire. 

Mine  be  Jacob's  -vsTestling  prayer, 
Gideon's  steadfast,  vaHant  care  ; 
Joseph's  purity  impart, 
Isaac's  meditating  heart ; 
Abraham's  friendship  let  me  prove, 
Faithful  to  tlie  God  I  love. 

Most  of  all,  may  I  pui-sue 
That  example  Jesus  drew  ; 
By  my  life  and  conduct  show. 
How  he  lived  and  walk'd  beloAv  ; 
Day  by  day,  through  grace  restored. 
Imitate  ray  blessed  Lord. 

When  those  dreams  of  life  are  fled. 
When  those  wasting  lamps  are  dead  ; 
When  in  cold  oblivion's  shade. 
Youth,  and  fame,  and  power  are  laid 
Where  immortal  spirits  reign. 
There  may  we  all  meet  again. 


86 


iPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


HEAVENLY  SOUNDINGS. 

To  lieav'n  I'm  bound  with  prosp'rous  gales, 
My  bark  by  grace  doth  safely  steer. 

And  going  under  gospel  sails, 

Celestial  prospects  bright  appear — 

To  sound  her  ground  my  faith  now  springs, 

And  to  her  Author  thus  she  sings, 
"  Thy  will  be  done !" 

As  bearing  up  to  gain  the  port, 

A  blood-stain'd  cross  and  heav'n  in  view, 

A  Savio^ir's  wounds,  my  harbour — fort — 
The  beacon,  to  my  vessel  true ; 

Again  my  faith  her  soundings  tries, 

A  nd  to  my  soul's  sure  Pilot  cries, 
"  A  blessed  hope !" 

Now  as  the  blissful  shore  draws  near. 
With  transport  I  behold  the  place 

Where  dwells  my  friend,  my  Saviour  dear, 
And  long  with  joy  to  see  his  face  ; 

Once  more  my  faith  doth  try  her  ground, 
And  thus  reechoes  back  the  sound, 
"  Christ  is  my  rock  !" 

MY  FATHER'S  LAND. 

There  is  a  place  where  my  hopes  are  stay'd, 

My  heart  and  my  treasure  are  there  ; 
Where  verdure  and  blossoms  never  fade, 
And  fields  are  eternally  fair. 
Chorus. — That  blissful  place  is  my  Father's  land, 
By  faith  its  delights  I  explore ; 
Come,  favour  my  flight,  angelic  band, 
And  waft  me  in  peace  to  that  shore. 


SPIRllUAL  SONGS. 


87 


There  is  a  phice  where  the  angels  dwell, 

A  pure  and  a  peaceful  abode  ; 
The  joys  of  that  place  no  tongue  can  tell, 

But  there  is  the  palace  of  God. 

There  is  a  place  where  my  fiiends  are  gone, 
Who  worshipped  and  sutfer'd  with  me ; 

Exalted  with  Christ  high  on  his  throne, 
The  King  in  his  glory  they  see. 

There  is  a  place  where  I  hope  to  live. 
When  life  with  its  labours  is  o'er ; 

A  place  which  the  Lord  to  me  will  give, 
And  there  I  shall  suffer  no  more.  . 


THE  OLD  FAMILY  BIBLE. 
O  that  I  were  as  in  months  past.— Jov  xxix,  2. 
How  painfully  pleasing  the  fond  recollection 
Of  youthful  connexions  and  innocent  joy ; 
When,  blest  with  parental  advice  and  affection. 
Surrounded  with  mercies,  with  peace  fi-om  on 

I  still  view  the  chaii-s  of  my  sire  and  mother. 
The  seats  of  each  offspring  as  ranged  on  each 
hand. 

And  that  richest  of  books,  which  excell'd  every  other. 

The  Family  Bible,  which  lay  on  the  stand — 
The  old-fashion'd  Bible,  the  dear  blessed  Bible, 
The  Family  Bible,  which  lay  on  the  stand. 

That  Bible,  the  volume  of  God's  inspiration 

At  morn  and  at  evening  could  yield  us  delight ; 

And  the  prayer  of  our  sire  was  a  sweet  mvocation. 
For  mercv  bv  dav  and  for  safety  through  mght. 


88 


SPIRITUAL  SONUS. 


Our  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  with  harmony  swelling, 
All  warm  from  the  hearts  of  the  family  band, 

Half  raised  us  from  earth  to  that  rapturous  dwelling 
Described  in  the  Bible  that  lay  on  the  stand — 

The  old-fashion'd  Bible,  the  dear  blessed  Bible, 

The  Family  Bible,  which  lay  on  the  stand. 

Ye  scenes  of  tranquillity,  long  have  we  parted ; 
My  hopes  almost  gone,  and  my  parents  no 
more. 

In  sorrow  and  sadness  I  live  broken-hearted. 
And  wander  unknown  on  a  far  distant  shore ; 

Yet  how  can  I  doubt  a  dear  Saviour's  protection. 
Forgetful  of  gifts  from  his  bountiful  hand  ; 

O  let  me  with  ])atience  receive  his  correction. 
And  think  of  the  Bible  that  lay  on  the  stand — 

The  old-fashion'd  Bible,  the  dear  blessed  Bible, 

The  Family  Bible  that  lay  on  the  stand. 


WHY  THOSE  FEARS? 

Why  those  fears  ? — behold,  't  is  Jesus 
Holds  the  helm  and  guides  the  ship  ; 

Spread  the  sails  and  catch  the  breezes 
Sent  to  waft  us  through  the  deep 

To  the  regions 
Where  the  mourners  cease  to  weep. 

Could  we  stay  where  death  was  hov'ring  ? 

Could  we  rest  on  such  a  shore  ? 
No,  the  awful  truth  discov'ring, 

We  could  linger  there  no  more : 
We  forsake  it, 

Leaving  all  we  loved  before. 


SPIRllXAL  SONGS. 


89 


Though  the  shore  Ave  wish  to  land  on 

Only  bv  report  is  known, 
Yet  we  freely  all  abandon, 

Led  by  tliat  report  alone, 
And  with  Jesus 

Through  the  trackless  deep  move  on. 

Led  by  that,  we  brave  the  ocean ; 

Led  by  that,  the  storms  defy  ; 
Calm  arnidst  tumultuous  motion, 

Knownng  that  our  Lord  is  nigh : 
Waves  obey  him, 

And  the  storms  before  him  fly. 

Render'd  safe  by  his  protection. 
We  shall  pass  the  wat'iy  waste ; 

Trusting  to  his  wise  direction. 
We  shall  gain  the  port  at  last ; 

And  with  wonder 
Think  on  toils  and  dangers  past. 

O  !  what  pleasures  there  await  us  ! 

There  the  tempests  cease  to  roar ; 
There  it  is  that  those  who  hate  us 

Can  molest  our  peace  no  more : 
Trouble  ceases 

On  that  tranquil,  happy  shore. 


THE  WHITE  PILGRIM'S  GRAVE. 
I  c^ME  to  the  spot  whei-e  the  white  pilgrim  lay, 

And  pensively  sat  by  his  tomb, 
When,  in  a  low  whisper,  I  heard  some  one  say, 

"  How  sweetly  I  sleei>  here  alone  ! 


9U  Sl'lUll'l  Al,  rtuNUS. 

"  Tho  tempests  ina\-  liowl,  and  the  loud  thunders 
roll, 

Ancl  gathering  storms  may  arise, 
Yet  calm  are  my  feelings,  at  rest  is  my  soul, 
The  tears  are  all  wiped  from  these  eyes. 

"  'I'he  cause  of  my  Master  compell'd  me  from  home ; 

I  bade  my  companion  farewell ; 
1  left  my  sweet  children,  who  now  for  me  mourn, 

In  far  distant  regions  to  dwell. 

"  T  wander'd,  an  exile  and  stranger  below. 

To  publish  salvation  abroad, 
'J'he  trump  of  the  gospel  endeavour'd  to  blow. 

Inviting  poor  sinners  to  God. 

"  Hut  when,  among  strangers  and  far  from  my  home, 

No  kindred  or  relative  nigh, 
I  met  the  contagion  and  sank  in  the  tomb, 

My  spii'it  ascended  on  high. 

"  0  tell  my  companion,  and  children  most  dear, 
To  weep  not  for  Joseph,  though  gone  ; 

'I'he  same  Hand  that  led  me  through  scenes  dark 
and  drear 
Has  kindly  assisted  me  home." 

I  caU'd  at  the  house  of  the  mourner  below, 

1  enter  d  the  mansion  of  grief ; 
The  tears  of  deep  sorrow  most  freely  did  flow — 

I  tried,  but  could  give  no  relief. 

There  sat  a  lone  widow  dejected  and  sad. 

By  affliction  and  sorrow  oppress'd ; 
And  here  were  her  children  in  mourning  array'd. 

And  sighs  were  e.sca])ing  eacli  breast. 


91 


1  spoke  to  the  widow  concerning  her  grief. 

I  ask'd  her  the  cause  of  her  woe  ; 
And  why  there  was  nothing  to  give  her  rehef, 

Or  soothe  her  deep  sorrow  below. 

She  look'd  at  her  children,  then  look'd  upon  me  ; 

That  look  I  can  never  forget ; 
More  eloquent  far  than  a  seraph  can  be, 

It  spoke  of  the  trials  she  met. 

"  The  hand  of  affliction  falls  heavily  now  ; 

I  am  left  with  ray  children  to  mourn ; 
The  friend  of  my  youth  is  silent  and  low. 

In  yonder  cold  grave-yard  alone  ! 

"  But  why  should  I  mourn,  or  feel  to  complain. 

Or  think  that  fortune  is  hard  ? 
Have  I  met  with  affliction — 't  is  truly  his  gain — 

He's  entcr'd  the  joy  of  his  Lord ! 

"  His  work  is  completed  and  finish'd  below  ; 

His  last  tear  is  fiillen,  I  trust ; 
He  has  preach'd  his  last  sermon  and  met  his  last 
foe ; 

Has  conquer'd,  and  now  is  at  rest !" 


THE  KESU ERECTION  HYMN. 

O,  THEY  crucified  my  Saviour ; 

O,  they  crucified  my  Saviour ; 

0,  they  crucified  my  Saviour, 

And  they  nail'd  him  to  the  cross : 
But  he  arose,  he  arose,  he  arose  from  the  dead  ; 
He  arose  and  went  to  heaven  on  a  cloud. 


SPIRITUAL  bONGS. 


Then  Joseph  begg'd  his  body, 
And  he  laid  it  in  the  tomb. 
But  he  arose,  &c. 

Then  down  came  the  angels, 
And  they  roll'd  away  the  stone. 
Then  he  arose,  &c. 

O,  the  grave  it  could  not  hold  him, 
For  he  burst  the  bonds  of  death. 
Then  he  arose,  &c. 

Then  Mary  came  a-running, 
A-looking  for  her  Lord. 
But  he  arose,  &c. 

O,  where  have  you  laid  him  ? 
For  he  is  not  in  the  tomb. 
For  he  arose,  &c. 

Go,  tell  John  and  Peter 
I  have  risen  from  the  dead. 

Go,  tell  to  doubting  Thomas 
I  have  risen  from  the  dead. 

Then  our  hearts  they  burn'd  within 
As  he  talk'd  along  the  way. 

O,  why  stand  ye  gazing, 
O,  ye  men  of  Gahlee  ? 

Don't  you  see  him  now  ascending, 
There  to  plead  for  you  and  me  ? 

In  the  M'orld  there 's  tribulation, 
But  in  me  ye  shall  have  peace. 

By-and-by  we  '11  go  and  meet  him, 
Where  pleasures  never  die. 


SPIRITLAL  SONGS. 


WHEN  I  SET  OUT  FOR  GLORY. 

Whex  I  set  out  for  glory 
I  left  the  world  behind, 
Determined  for  a  city 

That 's  out  of  sight  to  find. 
Chorus.— And  to  glory  I  wUl  go,  ^ 
And  to  gloiy  I  will  go,  I  11  go,  1 
And  to  glory  I  will  go. 

I  left  my  worldly  honour, 

I  left  my  worldly  fame, 
I  left  my  young  companions. 

And  wth  them  my  good  name. 

Some  said  I 'd  better  tarry, 
They  thought  I  was  too  young 

Then  to  prepare  for  dying, 
But  that  Avas  all  my  theme. 

Come,  all  my  loving  brethren. 

And  listen  to  my  cry ; 
All  you  that  are  backshdei-s 

Must  shortly  beg  or  die. 

And  to  begging  I  ^vill  go,  &c. 

The  Lord,  he  loves  the  beggar 

Who  truly  begs  indeed  ; 
He  always  will  relieve  him 

Whene'er  he  stands  in  need. 

I 'm  not  ashamed  to  beg 
While  here  on  earth  I  stay ; 

I 'm  not  ashamed  to  watch, 
I 'm  not  ashamed  to  pray. 


'J4  .SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 

The  richest  man  I  ever  saw 

Was  one  that  begg'd  the  most ; 
>   His  soul  was  fiU'd  with  Jesus 
And  with  the  Holy  Ghost. 

And  now  we  are  encouraged, 

Come,  let  us  travel  on. 
Until  we  join  the  angels 

And  sing  the  holy  song. 

And  to  glory  we  will  go,  &c. 


THE  LITTLE  HYMN. 

Come,  little  children,  now  we  may  partake  a  little 
morsel ; 

For  little  songs  and  little  ways  adorn'd  a  great 
apostle : 

A  little  drop  of  Jesus'  blood  can  make  a  feast  of 
union ; 

It  is  by  little  steps  we  move  into  a  full  communion. 

A  httle  faith  does  mighty  deeds  quite  past  all  my 
recounting, 

Faith,  like  a  little  mustard-seed,  can  move  a  lofty 
mountain ; 

A  little  charity  and  zeal — a  little  tribulation — 
A  little  patience — makes  us  feel  great  peace  and 
consolation. 

A  little  cross  with  cheerfulness,  a  little  self-denial, 
Will  help  us  feel  our  troubles  less,  and  bear  the 

greater  trial ; 
The  Spirit,  like  a  little  dove,  on  Jesus  once  descended, 
To  show  his  meekness  and  his  love  the  emblem  was 

intended. 


The  title  of  the  httle  Lamb  unto  our  Lord  was  given, 
Such  was  our  Saviour's  little  name,  the  Lord  of  earth 
and  heaven  ; 

A  little  voice  that's  small  and  still  can  rule  the 

whole  creation, 
A  little  stone  that  earth  shall  fill,  and  humble  everv 

nation. 

A  little  zeal  supplies  the  soul,  it  doth  the  heart  in- 
spire ; 

A  little  spark  lights  up  the  whole  and  sets  the  crowd 
on  fire ; 

A  little  union  serves  to  hold  the  good  and  tender- 
hearted. 

It's  stronger  than  a  chain  of  gold  that  never  can 
be  parted. 

Come,  let  us  labour  here  below — see  who  can  walk 

the  straightest ; 
For  in  God's  kingdom  all  must  know  the  least  shall 

be  the  greatest : 
O  give  us,  Lord,  a  little  drop  of  heavenly  love  and 

union  ; 

O  may  we  never,  never  stop,  short  of  a  full  com- 
munion. 

Fear  not,  says  Christ,  ye  little  flock,  heirs  of  immor- 
tal glory. 

You  're  built  upon  the  surest  rock,  the  kingdom 's 

just  before  you ; 
Fight  on,  fight  on,  ye  heii-s  of  bliss,  and  tell  the 

pleasing  story — 
I 'm  with  you  till  the  world  shall  end.  I  '11  bring  you 

home  to  glory ! 


96 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


HOW  SWEET  THE  MEMORY  OP  THE  DEAD. 

How  sweet  the  mem'ry  of  the  dead, 
While  sleeping  on  their  dusty  bed  ! 
Their  bodies  rest  in  silence,  where 
No  ghmm'ring  sun  can  enter  there. 
Chorus. — We  are  passing  away, 
We  are  passing  away, 
We  are  passing  away. 
Like  a  long  summer's  day. 

Our  brother  he  is  dead  and  gone, 
He 's  gone  to  join  the  morning  song ; 
Ah  !  he  did  preach  till  almost  spent. 
And  then  gave  up  without  consent. 

He  told  us  that  his  work  was  done — 
He  pray'd  the  Lord  he  would  come  down  ; 
A  little  while  he  talk'd  and  pray'd. 
Then  clapp'd  his  hands,  and  thus  he  said  : 

"  Children  of  Zion,  now  draw  near, 
And  hear  my  dying  speech  with  fear ; 
Have  I  done  all,  have  I  got  through, 
And  finish'd  all  I  had  to  do  ?" 

Satan  tried  his  mind  to  cross, 
He  told  him  all  his  hopes  were  lost ; 
He  ask'd  the  Lord  to  give  a  sign 
If  he  was  born  of  blood  divine. 

A  light  from  heaven  did  appear, 
The  glory  of  the  Lord  was  there  ; 
I  thought  I  heard  the  Saviour  say — 
"  Come  hither,  soul,  I  am  the  way  !" 

"  Satan,  leave,  for  I  must  go, 

The  Lord  has  call'd  me  from  below : 


,1'IRITUAL  SOKHJj. 


97 


I  tbaiik  my  God  for  what  he 's  done, 
Tlie  gift  of  his  beloved  Son  ! 

'*  Jesus  me  a  sinner  sought — 
Was  not  mine  a  happy  lot  ? 
I  feel  my  Saviour  in  my  breast — 
I  want  to  go  and  be  at  rest !" 

1  saw  this  mighty  hero  fall — 
I  saw  him  bui-st  the  prison  wall — 
I  saw  him  when  he  took  his  flight 
To  dwell  among  the  saints  of  light. 

Could  he  another  life  hve  o'er, 

He 'd  range  this  world  from  shore  to  shore  ; 

He  wore  the  mortal  body  down — 

He  weai-s  a  never-fading  cro^vn. 

But  see  !  the  mighty  angels  call, 
They  take  him  round  the  city's  wall : 
"  Come  in !"  they  cried,  "  the  war  is  o'er  !" 
And  then  I  saw  his  face  no  more. 


OUR  KIXDRED  DEAR  TO  HEAVEN  HAVE  GONE. 

Our  kindred  dear  to  heaven  have  gone, 

We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory ; 
They  landed  safe — we  '11  follow  on. 

To  meet  our  friends  in  glory. 
Chorus. — We  're  marching  to  glory  ! 

We  're  marching  to  gloiy ! 
We  're  marching  to  glory  1 

To  meet  our  friends  in  glory ! 
We  're  on  our  way  to  paradise, 
To  meet  our  friends  in  glorv  ! 

7 


08 


SHIKITUAL  SONGS. 


They  had  to  fight  their  passage  through — 
We  'II  meet  our  friends  in  glory  ; 

But  conquer'd,  as  we  soon  shall  too, 
And  meet  our  friends  in  glory. 

How  bright  the  crowns  their  temples  bear  I — 
We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory  ; 

Like  crowns  for  us  are  waiting  there — 
We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory. 

What  robes  they  wear  before  the  throne  I — 
We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory  ; 

Such  glorious  I'obes  shall  be  our  own — 
We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory. 

What  harps  of  gold  they  all  employ  I — 
We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory ; 

Such  harps  our  hands  shall  strike  with  joy — 
We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory. 

What  notes  divine  are  on  their  tongues ! — 
We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory  ; 

And  raise  with  them  our  rapt'rous  songs — 
We'll  meet  our  friends  in  glorj'. 

We  're  marching  forward  heart  and  hand. 

To  meet  our  friends  in  glory  ; 
And  soon,  in  one  united  band, 

We  '11  meet  our  friends  in  glory. 


SlURITLAL  SOXGS. 


99 


I  HAVE  NO  FATHER  THERE.   C.  M 


tz:t;zT:z:U:Iai:^=i^z:t^=i 

1.  I  saw  a  wide  and  well-siwead  board,  And 

2.  Be -side  the  board  the  fa  -  tlier  sat,  A 


children,  young  and  fair.  Came  cue  by  one— the 
smile  his  fea-tures  wore,        As    on  the  lit  -  tie 


£3E 


-s—r- 


eld  -  est  first — And  took  their  sta  -  tions  there  : 
group  he  gazed.  And  told  their  por- tions  o'er: 


ill! 


'=1: 


neat  -  ly  clad,  and  bean  -  ti  -  ful, 
uiea  -  grc  form,  ar  -  ray'd    in  rags 


And 
A- 


iiiiilii 


100 


=:?±fp=fz:i:f:pzp:F^.f->;z:p:zi— 

z:E:E=bz;U:i:t===:tt:tE~:i;;:=t=^.=i 

■with  fa  -  mi  -  liar  tread,  They  gathcr'd  round  with 
near  the  threshold  stood —  A  half-starved  child  had 


joy  to  feast  On  meats  and  snow-white  bread, 
wan-der'd  there,  To     beg     a     lit  -  tie  food. 


0.  Said  one,  '•  Why  standest  here,  my  child'? 

See,  there 's  a  vacant  seat, 
Amid  the  children — and  enough 

For  them  and  thee  to  eat 
"  Alas,  for  mc  !"  the  child  replied, 

In  tones  of  deep  despair ; 
"  No  right  have  I  amid  your  group — 

I  have  no  father  there  !" 

1.  0,  hour  of  fate !  when  fi-om  the  skies, 

AVith  notes  of  deepest  dread, 
The  far  resounding  trump  of  God 

Shall  summon  forth  the  dead — 
What  countless  liosts  shall  stand  without 

The  heavenly  tlireshold  fair. 
And,  gazing  on  the  blest,  exclaim, 

"  I  have  uo  Father  there  I" 


SPIRITUAL  SOXGS. 


THE  FAMILY  BIBLE. 
lAda2>tcd  to  the  preceding  tune.'] 

1 .  This  Book  is  all  that 's  left  me  now  ; 

Tears  will  unbidden  start : 
With  falt'ring  lip  and  throbbing  brow, 

I  press  it  to  my  heart  : 
For  many  generations  pass'd, 

Here  is  our  family-tree  ; 
My  mother's  hands  this  Bible  clasp'd  ; 

She,  dying,  gave  it  me. 


2.  Ah  !  well  do  I  remember  those 

Whose  names  these  records  bear ; 
Who  round  the  hearth-stone  used  to  close, 

After  the  evening  prayer. 
And  speak  of  what  these  pages  said, 

In  tones  my  heart  would  thrill ! 
Though  they  arc  with  the  silent  dead, 

Here  are  they  living  still. 


3.  My  father  read  this  holy  Book 

To  brothers,  sisters  dear — 
How  calm  was  my  poor  mother's  look, 

Who  loved  God's  word  to  hear ! 
Her  angel  face — I  see  it  yet ! 

What  thronging  memories  come ! 
Again  that  little  group  is  met, 

Within  the  walls  of  home. 


4.  Thou  truest  friend  man  ever  knew, 

Thy  constancy  I 've  tried  ; 
When  all  were  false  I 've  found  thee  true, 

My  counsellor  and  guide. 
The  mines  of  earth  no  treasure  give, 

That  could  this  volume  buy — 
In  teaching  me  the  way  to  live. 

It  taught  me  how  to  die. 


102 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


103 


i.  Cold,  on  his  cradle,  the  dcwnlrops  arc  sliming; 
Low  lies  his  bed  with  the  l3easts  of  the  stall ; 
Angels  adoi-e  him,  in  slumber  reclining, — 
Maker,  and  Monarch,  and  Saviour,  of  all. 

:i.  Say,  shall  we  yield  him,  in  costly  devotion, 
Odours  of  Eden,  and  off  'rings  divine  ? 
Gems  of  the  mountain,  and  pearls  of  the  ocean. 
Myrrh  from  the  forest,  and  gold  from  the  mine  ? 

4.  Vainly  we  offer  each  ample  oblation  ; 

Vainly  with  gifts  would  his  favour  secure  ; 
Kicher  by  far  is  the  heart's  adoration ; 
Dearer  to  God  are  the  prayers  of  the  poor. 


BURST,  YE  EMERALD  GATES.   7s  &  r,». 


1.  Bm-st,  ye  emerald  gates,  and  bring  To  my  raptured 
:          All  the  ecstatic  joys  that  spring  Round  the  bright  E- 

2.  Floods  of  ev-er-last-ing  light  Free-ly  flash  be- 
I             Myriads,  with  supreme  deliirht,    lu-stant-ly  a- 


Lo !  we     lift    our   long  ■ 


VI  -  sion,  I 
ly  -  siimi!  j 

dore  him  •    |        ■  gel  trumps  re  -  sound  his   fame  ; 


104  SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 

Break,  ye  in  -  ter  -  ven-ing  skies  :  Sons  of  righteous- 
Lutes  of  lu  -  cid  gold  proclaim    All    the  mu  -  sic 


ness,     a  -  rise !     Ope  the  gates  of    pa  -  ra 
of      his  name,    Hea-ven  e  -  cho  -  ing  tlie 
 0  0  —0  

-  dise. 
theme. 

lh 

-|-" 

r>.  Foui"  and  twenty  elders  rise 
From  their  princely  station  : 

Shout  his  glorious  victories, 
Sing  the  great  salvation  : 

Cast  their  crowns  before  his  throne ; 

Cry,  in  reverential  tone, 

"  Glory  be  to  God  alone. 

Holy,  holy,  holy  One." 

4.  Hark !  the  thrilling  symphonies 
Seem,  methinks,  to  seize  us  ; 

Join  we  to  the  holy  lays — 
"  Jesus  !  Jesus !  Jesus  !" 

Sweetest  sound  in  seraph's  song ; 

Sweetest  note  on  mortal  tongue  ; 

Sweetest  carol  ever  sung : 

"  Jesus  !  Jesus  '."  flow  along. 


sl'lUlll  Al.  SONUS. 


THE  OLD  ISRAELITES.   12  &  9. 


1.  The  oKl  Israelites  knew  what  it  was  they  must  tin 

2.  I  am  thankful,  indeed,  for  the  Heavcn-ly  Head, 


If  fair  Ca  -  iia  -  an  thov  would  pes  -  scss — 
WhiA  he  -  fore  me    has    hith  -  er  -  to  soue  ; 


Thev  must  still  keep  ii 
Foi-  that  Pil  -  lar  of  I 

z^:^;|>=:>z:U 

1 

— • 

sight  of   the    pil  -  lar    of  light, 
ovo  which  doth  onward  still  move, 

— «-f-i — 1 — 1 — 1 — 1- 

Which  led  on  to  the  pro  -  mis  -  ed  rest : 
And  doth  ga  -  ther  our  souls     in   -   to  one. 


100 


The 

Now  the 

• 

3UlJ  1 

are  a 

^  i 

i-F- 

long, 

But  as 
And  ii 

the  ti 

r," 

mm 

'-^ 

Pi 

take    up    the  cross 

and 

►  riT:: 

go- 
go- 

St 

^PlRTTT  Al.  SONGS. 


107 


The  waj-  is  all  new,  as  it  opens  to  view, 

And  behind  is  a  foaming  lied  Sea  ; 
So  none  now  need  to  speak  of  the  onions  ami  leeks, 

Or  to  talk  about  garlics  to  me  : 
Oil  Jordan's  near  side  I  can  never  abide  ; 

For  no  place  here  of  refuge  I  see. 
Till  I  come  to  the  spot,  and  inherit  the  lot 

Which  the  Lord  God  v^ill  give  unto  me. 
4. 

What  though  some  in  the  rear  preach  up  terror  and  fear, 

And  complain  of  the  trials  they  meet? 
Though  the  giants  before  with  great  fury  do  roar, 

I 'm  resolved  I  will  never  retreat. 
We  are  little,  't  is  true,  and  our  numbers  are  few. 

And  the  sons  of  old  Anak  are  tall ; 
I'.ut  while  I  see  a  track  I  will  never  go  back. 

Bat  go  on  at  the  risk  of  my  all. 

Now  the  bright  morning  dawns  for  the  camps  to  move  on, 

And  the  priests  with  their  trumpets  do  blow : 
As  the  priests  give  the  sound,  and  the  trumpets  resound, 

All  my  soul  is  exulting  to  go. 
If  I 'm  faithful  and  true,  and  my  journey  pursue 

Till  I  stand  on  the  heavenly  shore, 
I  shall  joyfully  see,  what  a  blessing  to  me 

AVas  the  mortifying  cross  which  I  bore. 

All  my  honours  and  wealth,  all  my  pleasures  and  health, 

I'ara  willing  should  now  be  at  stake  ; 
If  my  Christ  I  obtain,  I  shall  think  it  great  gain. 

For  the  sacrifice  which  I  shall  make  : 
When  I  all  have  forsook,  like  a  bubble  'twill  look. 

From  the  midst  of  a  glorified  throng. 
Where  all  losses  are  gain,  where  each  sorrow  and  pain 

Are  exchanged  for  the  conqueror's  song. 


108 


SI'IRITl'AI.  SON(!S. 


THE  PRODIGAL'S  RETURN.  C.  M. 


caused  him  to  repent :  I  '11  die  no  more  for  bread — I  '11  die  no 


more  for  bread,  he  cried,  Nor  star^-e  in  foreign  lands  ;  My 


AL  SONGS. 


109 


Eiii 

are  his  hands. 

IS 


0.  What  have  I  gain'd  by  sin,  he  said, 
But  hunger,  shame,  and  fear  ? 
My  father's  house  abounds  with  bread, 
While  1  am  starving  here. 
I  '11  die  no  more,  &c. 

3.  I  '11  go,  and  tell  him  all  I 've  done. 

Fall  down  before  his  face — 
Unworthj'  to  be  call'd  his  son, 
I  '11  seek  a  servant's  place. 
I  '11  die  no  more,  &c. 

4.  His  father  saw  him  coming  back  ; 

He  saw,  and  ran,  and  smiled, 
And  threw  his  arms  around  the  neck 
Of  his  rebellious  child. 
I  '11  die  no  more,  &c. 

5.  Father,  I 've  sinn'd — but  0  forgive ! 

Enough,  the  father  said  ; 
Rejoice,  my  house,  my  son 's  alive. 
For  whom  I  mourn'd  as  dead. 
I  '11  die  no  more,  &c. 

().  Now  let  the  fatted  calf  be  slain. 
And  spread  the  news  around ; 
My  son  was  dead,  but  lives  again — 
Was  lost,  but  now  is  found. 
I  '11  die  no  more,  <S:c. 

7.  'T  is  thus  the  Lord  his  love  reveals. 
To  call  poor  sinners  home ; 
More  than  a  father's  love  he  feels, 
And  welcomes  all  that  come. 
I  '11  die  no  more,  &c. 


?PTRTTrAL  SOXGS. 


THE  FAITHFUL  SENTINEL,   lis  &  12s. 


li 


youth,  He  hasted— the  herald  of  mercy  and  truth  ; 


For  the  love  of  his  Lord,  and  to  seek  for  the 


Soon,  a -las!  vi 

hisf 

-but  he 

died  at  his  post: 

:>l'iKn'l  AL   SONGt;.  1  1  1 


— ^ — 

Soon,  a-1 

1  ^  1 — 

IS !  was  his  fall  — 

^ — 

but  he 

died  at  bis  post. 

t  - 

^5 

i 

2. 

The  stranger's  eye  wept,  that,  in  life's  brightest  bloom, 
One  gifted  so  highly  should  sink  to  the  tomb  ; 
For  in  ardour  he  led,  in  the  van  of  the  host, 
And  he  fell  like  a  soldier, — he  died  at  his  post. 


3. 

He  wept  not  himself  that  his  warfare  was  done — 
The  battle  was  fought,  and  the  victory  won  ; 
But  he  whisper'd  of  those  whom  his  heart  loved  the 
most, — 

•'  Tell  niy  brethren,"  said  he,  "  that  I  died  at  my  post." 
4. 

He  ask'd  not  a  stone,  to  be  sculptured  m  verse  ; 
He  ask'd  not  that  fame  should  his  merits  rehearse  : 
Bvit  he  ask'd  as  a  boon,  when  he  gave  up  the  ghost, 
That  his  brethren  might  know  that  he  died  at  his  post 


Victorious  his  fall — for  he  rose  as  be  fell, 
With  Jesus,  his  Master,  in  glory  to  dwell ; 
He  has  pass'd  o'er  the  sea — he  has  reach'd  the  bright 
coast — 

For  he  fell  like  a  martyr, — he  died  at  his  post. 

6. 

And  can  we  the  words  of  our  brother  forget  1 
O  no  ! — they  are  fresh  in  our  memory  yet : 
An  example  so  sacred  shall  never  be  lost ; 
We  will  fall  in  the  work, — we  will  die  at  our  post 


112 


SPIRITUAL  SONGS. 


THE  DYING  BOY.    6,  10,  10,  4. 

MUSIC  BY  REV.  W.  F.  FARRINGTOK. 

1.   Mother,  I'm  dy  -  ing  now!    There 's  a  deep 


-^-»- 

•1 

suf  -  fo  -  c 

a  -  tion 

iu     my  bref 
 _ 

ist,  As 

if  some 

[!• 

hea  -  vy 

hand  my  bosom  press'd ;  And 

on  my 

rS  n 

brow 

2.  I  feel  the  cold  sweat  stand ; 
My  lips  grow  dry  and  tremulous — my  breath 
Comes  feebly  up — 0  tell  me,  Is  this  death  ? 
Mother,  your  hand — 

Here  ;  lay  it  on  my  wrist, 
And  place  the  other  thus  beneath  my  head  ; 
And  say,  sweet  mother,  say,  when  I  am  dead, 

Shall  I  be  miss'd  ? 


113 


4    O.  at  the  time  of  prayer, 
When  you  look  round  and  see  my  vacant  seat, 
You  will  not  wait  then  for  my  coming  feet— 
You  '11  miss  me  there. 


o.  Never,  beside  your  knee, 
Shall  I,  again,  kuecl  down  at  night  to  pray  ; 
Nor  with  the  morning  wake,  and  smg  the  lay 
You  taught  to  me. 

6.  Father,  I 'm  going  home. 


To  that  good  home  vou  spoke  of— that  blest  land. 
Where  it  is  one  bright  summer  always,  and 
Storms  do  not  come. 

7.  I  must  be  happy  there ; 

From  pain  and  death,  you  say,  I  shall  be  free- 
That  sickness  never  enters  there,  and  we 
Shall  meet  again ! 

8.  Brother,  the  little  spot 

I  used  to  call  my  garden,  where,  long  hours. 
We 've  stay'd  to  watch  the  budding  things  and  flowers 
Forget  it  not. 

9.  Plant  there  some  box  or  pine, 
Something  that  lives  in  winter,  and  shall  be 
A  verdant  offering  to  my  memory. 

And  call  it  mine. 

10.  Sister,  the  young  rose-tree 

That  all  the  spring  has  been  my  pleasant  care. 
Just  putting  forth  its  leaves,  so  green  and  fair, 
I  give  to  thee. 

11.  And  when  its  roses  bloom,  ^ 
I  shall  be  gone  away— my  short  life  done  . 
But  will  you  not  bestow  a  single  one 

Upon  my  tomb  ? 

12.  Now,  mother,  sing  the  tune 

You  sung  last  night— I 'm  weary  and  must  sleep— 
Who  was  it  call'd  my  name  ?— nay,  do  not  weep— 
You  '11  all  come  soon. 


114  SPIKITUAL  SONGS. 

THE  BURIAL  OF  MRS.  JUDSON.* 

POETRY  BY  H.  .S.  WASHBURX— MUSIC  3Y  L.  HEATH. 


1.  Moiunful  -  ly,  ten-tier- ly,  Bear  on  the  dead; 

2.  Mournful  -  ly,  ten-der  -  ly,  Solemn  and  slow — 

::k±z:^iz:izii^z:izSzL;It=;t=2zi:z:t 


:5z:S:t:z^ztzt:'?=*zi:  n^zi^zii^zifi'if 


Where  the  war-rior  has  lain,  Let  the  Christian  be  laid ; 
Tears    are    be  -  dew-ing    The   path  as    ye    go ; 

0^-»-r-»—»-»-»^-»^-r0—^- 


-m — m-r-iB — m—v—m-m—m—m-jm — ^ — m  r 

^iziUttzlzz^zttztzt:  :pz:U=t=:p:^|: 


Xo  i>lace  more  be  -  fit  -  ting — 0  Rock  of  tlic  sea ! 
Kin  -  dred    and      strangers    Are  mourners    to  -  day — 


Nev  -  cr  such  trea  -  sure  Was  hid  -  den  in  thee, — 
Gent  -  ly,    so  gent  -  ly,     O     bear    lier     a  -  way, — 

:fP'=i^z:iz:a^z=?z=L:±:t=U=Liz:Ez:T 


tembcr, 


115 




Gentl, 

 t^^di 

,     so     gent-ly,     O  I 
-1^ —  ^  ;  

lid  -  den  ill  tlie 
)ear   her    a  -  w.u 

•i.  ^lounifully.  tenderly. 


In  fpuotutlc  now ; 
One  look  !  and  then  settle 

Tlie  loved  to  her  i-cst — 
The  ocean  beneath  lier. 

The  turf  on  lier  breast. 

4.  So  have  ye  buried  her — 

Up  I  and  depart. 
To  life  and  to  duty 

With  undismay'd  heart : 
Fear  not — ^for  the  love 

Of  the  stranger  will  keep. 
The  casket  that  lies 

In  the  Rock  of  the  deep. 

■'>.  Peace  to  thy  bosom. 

Thou  servant  of  God ! 
The  vale  thou  art  treading, 

Before,  thou  hast  trod  : 
Precious  dust  thou  hast  laid 

By  the  Hopia  tree, 
And  treasure  as  precious 

In  the  Rook  of  the  sea  I 


no 


THE  RULER'S  DAl.'dHTEK.  lis. 


1.  A  father  is  praying  The  Saviour  to  hear. 
•'  My  dear  little  daughter,  I  fear  she  will  die ! 


For  his  daughter 
Thou  rae?-ci-f 

is    dy-inst.  With  n 
ul  Sa-viour,  at-te 

0  help-cr 
ndto  my 

mm 

*  3  5 

Be  -  seeching  him 
If  thou  wilt  bu 

greatly,    he  fal 
touch  her,  she  su 

Is  at  his 
•c-ly  will 

feet, 
live— 

?4 

And  hi 
Then  to 

s  sto-rv  of 
thee  all  the 

gTo-n 

0  h 

0  . 

ear  him  re 
e  -  sus,  I  '11 

peat: 
give." 

SPIRITUAL  SONOS. 


117 


And  Jesus  Tvent  with  him ; — but  soon  it  was  said 
To  the  heart-stricken  father,  "  Thy  daughter  is  dead ! 
Wliy  trouble  the  blaster,  thy  woes  to  relieve  ?" — 
But  the  kind  Saviour  whisper'd,  "  Now,  only  believe." 
4. 

They  came  to  the  house — and  the  mourners  were  there, 
And,  with  weeping  and  wailing,  were  rending  the  air ; 
But  Jesus  reproved  them  :  "  Why  do  ye  thus  weep  ? 
For  the  maid  is  not  dead — she  is  only  asleep !" 

O  see !  with  a  touch  how  the  maiden  awakes. 
When  the  mighty  Physician  her  hand  gently  takes  ! 
And,  see !  from  her  features  pale  death  quickly  flies, 
At  the  voice  of  the  Saviour — "  0  damsel,  arise !" 


FOUNTAIN.  C.  M. 


— J-- 

1.  There 

is  a  fountain  fi 

L_^_^^  l..^.X 

I'd  with  blood,Drawn 

from  Im-man-uel's  veins;  And  sinners,  plunged  be- 

z^'zzti=:*=z:f:2^=Kzftrz:^=tz:i 


1  18  SPIRITrAI,  SONOS. 


neath  that  flood,  Lose  all  their  guil  -  ty  stains, — Lose 


3d  ending. 

iiiipiiilili 

all  their  guilty  stains. 

2.  The  dying  thief  rejoiced  to  see 

That  fountain  in  his  day  ; 
And  there  may  I,  though  vile  as  he, 
Wash  all  my  sins  away. 

3.  Thou  dying  Lamb !  thy  precious  blood 

Shall  never  lose  its  power, 
Till  all  the  ransom'd  Church  of  God 
Are  saved,  to  sin  no  more, 

4.  E'er  since,  by  faith,  I  saw  the  stream 

Thy  flowing  wounds  supply. 
Redeeming  love  has  been  my  theme. 
And  shall  be,  till  I  die. 

5.  Then,  in  a  nobler,  sweeter  song, 

I  '11  sing  thy  power  to  save, 
When  this  poor  lisping,  stamm'ring  tongue 
Lies  silent  in  the  grave. 


119 


TRIUMPH.   10s.       UEv.  A. 


1.    Joy -ful-ly,  joy- 


Bound  for  the  land  of  bright  spi  -  rits     a  -  bovc  ; 


M 

A 

n  -  ge  -  lie 
ng-ing,  to 

cho  -  ris  -  ters 
cheer  me  thro' d 

slug,  as  I 
eath's  chilling 

gloom, 

p4 

1    Joy -ful-ly, 
Joy -ful-ly, 

jo 
jo 

y-ful-ly  1 
y-ful-ly  1 

laste  to  thy 
lastc  to  thy 

 1^  J 

Sl'IKlTUAL  SONUS. 


Soon,  Avitli  my  pil  -  grimage  end  -  ed  be  -  low, 
Sounds  of  sweet  me  -  lo  -  dy   fall   on  my  ear; 


Home  to  tlie  land  of  bright  spi-rits  I  go ; 
Harps  of    the  bless  -  cd,  yoxir  voi  -  ccs  I     hear ! 


1:^1:1:^=^:1:==: 


li^iiliiiiiiil 

Pil  -  grim  and  stran-gcr  no  more  shall  I  roam — 
Rings  with  the  bar  -  mo  -  ny  heaven's  high  dome — 

=^:z5tz=p:p=.— =;=:i:pi:z:i--*q[:==T 


Joy  -  ful  -  ly,  joy  -  ful  -  ly  rest  -  ing  at  home. 
"Joy-ful-ly,  joy  -  fal  -  ly  haste  to    thy  home." 


I         ^     I   For  third  vorsi-,  sec  the  tnllowin?  paie. 


SPlKll'VAL  SONIjS. 


1-21 


Death,  with  thy  weapons  of  war  ow  , 

Strike  King  of  terrors-I  fear  no  the  blow  ; 
Jesus  hath  broken  tlic  bars  of  the  tomb : 
Joyfully,  joyfully  will  I  go  home. 

Bright  will  the  morn  of  eternity  dawn  ; 

Death  shall  be  banish'd-his  sceptre  be  gone  ; 
Joyfully  then  shall  I  witness  his  doom- 
Joyfully,  joyfully-safely  at  home. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  VICTOK. 

[Adopteil  to  the  j)irced!,H/  ("iic'i, 

1  Happy  the  spirit  released  from  its  clay  ; 
■  Happy  the  soul  that  goes  bounding  away— 
Sino-ing,  as  upward  it  hastes  to  the  skies, 
•'Vfctory".  victory '.—homeward  I  nse. 
^lany  the  toils  it  has  pass'd  through  below. 
Many  the  seasons  of  trial  and  woe ; 

Alauy  the  doubtings— it  never  should  sing 
•■  Victory '.  victory  '."  thus  on  the  wing. 


There  lies  the  wearisome  body  at  rest; 
Closed  are  its  eyelids,  and  quiet  its  breast; 

But  the  glad  spirit,  on  pinions  of  light, 

•'  Victory  !  victory!"  sings  in  its  flight. 
While  we  are  weeping  our  friends  gone  from  carlh. 
Angels  are  singing  their  heavenly  birth— 

"  Welcome,  0  welcome  to  our  happy  shore ; 

Victory  I  victory  I— weep  yo  no  more." 


:!.  How  can  we  wish  them  rcoall'd  from  their  hoim'. 
Longer  in  sorrowing  exile  to  roam  ? 

Safely  they  pass'd  from  their  troubles  beneath, 

"Victory!  victory!"  shouting  iu  death. 
Thus  let  them  slumber,  till  Christ  from  the  skies. 
Bids  them  in  glorified  bodies  arise— 

Singing,  as  upward  they  spring  from  the  toinb. 

••  vfctory  :  victory  !— Jc<us  hatli  come  !" 


22 


Hl-IRITLAL  SONGS. 


OFT  IN  THE  STILLY  NIGHT. 


1.  Oft   in  the  stil  ly  night,  Ere  slumber's  chain  hath 


2.  While  I    re  -  member  all  The  friends  so  link'il  to- 

bound  me,  Fond  mem-'ry  brings  the  light  Of 
ge   -  ther,     I 've     seen    a  -  round  nic    fall,  By 

— Hizzi^izfii^zzii.— .i^zit=t=-=tzzi 

 0  1  ±^ — ^ — ^ — 

z?z:?z:^^:i£=t;z:E?zf?z:Sz--U=:U=f 

o  -  ther  days  a  -  round  me  :  The  joys,  the  tears,  of 
sin's  sub-du  -  ing  pow  -  er,       I     feel  like  one  now 

-** — ^ — ^ — ^— '  ^ — ^ —  ^ — ■  

car  -  ly  years,  The  vows  to  Heaven  then  spo  -  ken  ;  Those 
left    a -lone;  My    Sa-viour  T     do  -  sort  -  ed ;  My 


123 


1     Lio  -  k.-u!  Tl 
1     part   -   eii:  Tl. 

us.     ill  tho 
IS.     in  tliL- 

stil-1 
stil-1. 

-  night,  Ere 
night.  Eiv 

hath 
hath 

bou 
bou 

ul  me,  Sai 
id    me.  Sad 

I*"'"-"' 

mem-' 

n 

ry 
r-y 

■  ^  

hri 

.gs  the  lis 
ags  the  h. 

ht  ( 
ht  t 

)f 
)f 

m-~ 

0  -  th 
0  -  th 

ei-days  a  -  r 
erdays  a-r 

)und  me. 

Sl'IItm'AL  SONGS. 

ALL  IS  WELL.   10,  3,  8. 

Newly  arranged  by  the  Autln 


1.  What 's  this  that  steals,  that  steals  upon  my 

2.  Weep  not,  my  friends,  my  friends,  weep  not  for 

iiiiiiiiiiS 


C.  DINGLEY. 


frame  ?  Is 
me ;  All 


it  death? — Is  it  death: 
is     well, —  All       is     well ; 


That  soon  will  quench,  will  quench  this  vi  -  tal 
My     sins  are     par  -  don'd,  par-don'd  ;  I 


::t: 


death  ?— Is  it 
well, —  All  is 


death  ? 
well : 


=t:z: 


iESEl 


si'iuni  AL  soNuti.  125 


If 

this 

be  death 

,      I  soo 

n  shall    be  From 

m 

r. 

r    ^  -- 

sor-row  fi 
•om  my  ey 

CO— I  sh 
^s— I  soou 

111  the  King 

of  t 

'\o-vy 

All  is 

well— Al 

1  is  well. 

Siiiiiiil 


.-!. 

Tune,  tune  your  harps-your  harps,  ye  saiuts  in  glory  1 

All  is  well,— All  is  well : 
1  will  rehearse — rehearse  the  pleasing  story ; 
All  is  well, — All  is  well : 
Bright  angels  are  from  glory  come  ; 
They  're  round  my  bed — they  're  iu  my  room — 
They  wait  to  waft  my  spirit  home  I 
All     well,— All  is  well. 


126 


sriiUTLAL  SONUli. 


SONNET.    8s  &  4.. 
1.  AVlicu  for  e-ternal  worlds  we  steer.And  seas  are 


t — k*-y 


calm,  and  skies  are  clear,  And  faith  iu  live  -  ly  ex  -  or- 


dis-tant  hills  of   Ca  -  naan  rise, —  The 

:t=i-it=£=;^-i'=f:ti:=3=ti: 


soul  for  joy  then  claps  her  wings,  And  loud  her  lovely 


127 


Uonnet  sings,  Vain  worlil,  adieu !  Vain  world,  a-dieu  I — And 

 ezt — :*z — — 

i  loud  her  love-l y    son-net  sinss,  \  ain  world,    a  -  dieu  ! 

2.  With  cheerful  hope  her  ej-es  explore 
Each  landmark  on  the  distant  shore ; 
The  trees  of  life,  the  pastures  green. 
The  golden  streets,  the  erj-stal  stream : 
Again  for  joj-  she  claps  her  wings. 
And  loud  her  lovely  sonnet  sings — 
Vain  world,  adieu ! 

•5.  The  nearer  still  she  draws  to  land, 
More  eager  all  her  powers  expand ; 
With  steady  helm,  and  free-bent  sail, 
Her  anchor  drops  within  the  veil : 
Again  for  joy  she  claps  her  wings. 
And  her  celestial  sonnet  sings — 
Olory  to  God  ! 


128 


i31'IRITlIAT,  SONGS. 


THE  HAPPY  MAN. 


1.  How  liap-py  is  the  man  who  has  chosen  wisdom's 


2.  He  rises  in  the  morning  ;  with  the  lark  he  tunes  his 

ways,  And  measured  out  his  span  to  his  God  in  jirayer  and 
lays,  And  of  -  fers  up  a  tribute  to  his  God  in  prayer  ami 


praise ;  His  God  and  his  Bi  -  hie  are  all  that  he  de  -  sires — 
praise  ;  And  then  to  his  la  -  hour  he  cheerfully  re  -pairs, 

To  ho  -  li-ness  of   heart  he  con  -  tiu-ual-ly  as-pires  ; 
In  con-fi-dence  be  -lieving  that  God  will  hear  his  jn'avers  : 


129 


^^po-ver-tyhe 

-,forhel 
,  in,  at 

Lnows  he  has  a  I 
home  or   a  - 

m 

nend, 
broad, 

Who  iiovor  will  fors 
His  ol>-jeot  is  to 

ake  him 
■  -0  0- 

till  the  ^ 
ami  to 

^ 

orkl  shall  have 
glo  -  ri  -  fy  his 

a- 

nend. 
God. 

■6. 

In  sickness,  pain,  and  sorrow,  he  never  will  repine. 
While  he  is  drawing  nourishment  from  Christ  the  living 
vine ; 

^Vhen  trouble  presses  heavily  he  leans  on  Jesus'  breast, 
And  in  his  precious  promises  he  finds  a  quiet  rest : 
Tlic  yoke  of  Christ  is  easy,  and  his  burden  always  light ; 
He  lives — ^nor  is  he  weary  till  Canaan  heaves  in  sight. 

4. 

'Tis  thus  j-ou  have  his  histoi'y  through  life,  from  day  to 
day: 

Religion  is  no  mystery : — with  him  'tis  a  beaten  way  : 
And  when  upon  his  pillow  he  lies  down  to  die. 
In  hope  he  rejoices,  for  he  knows  his  God  is  nigh : 
And  when  life's  lamp  is  flickering,  his  soul,  on  wings  of 
love. 

Away  to  realms  of  glory  flies,  to  reign  with  Christ 
above. 

11 


130 


SPIRITUAL 


n  it 

1.  Let 

par  -  ty 

names  no 

more  The 

m 


Oen-tlk  and 


free,    Are     one  in 


?  0- 

::=t: 


Head.—  Are      one       in    Christ      their  Head. 


131 


Let  mutual  love  be  found  ; 
cirs  of  the  same  inheritam 


3.  Let  envy  and  deceit 


earns  of  bliss  forever  How. 
And  every  heart  is  love. 


EXPERIENCE.  8, 5,  8,  5,  5,  7,  5, 4. 


ii 

1. 

■2. 

ou-lit  round  the  vc 
wan  -cler-a  in  ra 

rdaiit  ea 
I  -  zes  d; 

th,  For  u 
rk,  Of  do 

V  ^  

• — ^ — 

IV  ;      I  have 

tried  eve  ry  .ou> 

ce  or  mirth,  liuf 

and  di"s  -  t 

ess  :     1  hav<- 

no(  had  a  kin. 

ir — ^  

linsr  spark.  My 

0  

::  I 


all,  all  will  e 
,   spi-rit  to  bl 

ley:  Lord,l,e 

ss  :  Cheerles 

\n 

irace  to 
iU'd  m\ 

m 

set  the 
laV'rin^ 

theu  turn'd  to  tliy  gospel,  Lore 

then  trusted"^ thy  holy  word, 

Here  I  found  release ; 
Weary  spirit  here  found  rest- 
Hope  of  endless  bliss- 
Eternal  day. 


I .  I  will  praise  now  iny  Hcav'nly  King — 
I  '11  praise  and  adore ; 
The  heart's  richest  tribute  bring. 
To  thee,  God  of  ])ower  : 
And  in  heaven  above — 
Saved  by  thy  redeeming  love- 
Loud  the  strains  shall  move, 
Forever  more. 


l  Al.  SONCiS.  133 


THE 

PUKE  TESTIMONY. 

1        1.  The 

Hire   tes  -  ti  -  mc 

-  ny,  put 

U^-- ^  ^ 

L   ^  ^  

:  forth    iu  the 

Spi-rit,    Cuts  1 

ike      a  sharp 

two    edg  -  ed      sword,       And    hy  -  po  -  crites 


m 


cause  they 'rccondemn'd  by     the    word;  The 


pure  tes  -  ti 


light  0 

f  the  cross,  Aud 

'=1 

a  -  by  -  Ion  trem-bles    for    R-ar  of    lier  loss. 


<i'iRiTr.\i.  sONfis.  135 


Is  not  the  time  come  fov  the  Church  to  1)P  gathevM 

Into  the  one  Spirit  of  God '! 
Baptized  by  one  Spirit,  into  the  one  body, 

Partaking  Christ's  flesh  and  his  blood  ? 
They  drink  in  one  Spirit,  which  makes  them  all  see 
They  're  one  in  Christ  Jesus,  wherever  they  be — 
The  Jew  and  the  Gentile,  the  bond  and  the  free. 


Then  blow  ye  the  trumpet  in  pure  testimony, 

And  let  the  world  hear  it  again ; 
O  come  ye  from  Babylon,  Egypt,  and  Sodom, 

And  make  your  way  over  the  plain. 
Come,  wash  all  your  robes  in  the  blood  of  the  Lanil), 
And  walk  in  the  Spirit  through  Jesus's  name — 
In  the  pure  testimony  you  will  overcome. 

4. 

The  world  will  not  persecute  tliose  who  are  like  tl)em, 

But  hold  them  the  same  as  their  own ; 
The  pure  testimony  cries  out,  "separation," 

Whioli  causes  false  teachers  to  frown  ; 
Come  out  from  foul  .spirits  and  practises  too. 
The  track  of  your  Saviour  keep  still  iu  your  view — 
The  pure  testimony  will  cut  the  way  through. 

5. 

A  battle  is  coming  between  the  two  kingdoms. 

The  armies  are  gathering  round  ; 
The  pure  testimony  and  vile  persecution 

Will  come  to  close  contest  ere  long; 
Then  gird  on  your  armour,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord, 
And  he  will  direct  you  by  his  living  word ; 
The  pure  testimony  will  cut  like  a  sword. 

6. 

The  great  prince  of  darkness  is  must'ring  his  forces, 

To  make  you  his  pris'ners  again, 
By  slanders,  reproaches,  and  vile  persecution, 

'fhat  you  in  his  cause  may  remain  ; 
Then  shun  his  temptations  wherever  they  lie, 
And  fear  not  his  servants  whatever  they  say : 
The  PURE  TESTIMOXV  will  give  you  the  day. 


(JOSPEL  FREEDOM.   8s  &  7s. 


cleanse  you 

-  fy  and  make  you 

m  ^ 

ho 

-  ly,       I  will 

dwell  and  reign  with 

-  in  ? 

IE*  S 

2. 

Though  you  have  much  peace  and  cn 

Greater  things  you  yet  may  find  : 
Freedom  from  unholy  tempers. 

Freedom  from  the  carnal  mind. 
To  procure  your  perfect  freedom, 

Jesus  sufFer'd,  groan'd,  and  died  : 
On  the  cross  the  healing  fountain 

Gushed  from  his  wounded  side. 

Be  as  holy  and  as  happy, 

And  as  useful  here  below, 
As  it  is  your  Father's  pleasure ; 

Jesu.«,  only  .Tesus,  know. 
Xone  but  holy  ones  can  enter 

To  the  pure  celestial  sphere : 
Let  me  ask  the  solemn  question — 

Has  the  Lord  a  witness  here  ? 


1 


38 


THE  V()YA(;E.    h.  ri. 


m 


Thro' tri -bu  -  la- tion  deep    The  -way  to 


;lo  -  vy     is ;     This  stormy  course  1  keep  O'er 


£=:t:I:Si:F;*J:f-''=:i'r:*:It:=Ltf 


these  tera-pestuous  seas : 


waves  and  winds  I 'm 


toss'd  and  driven,  Frpighted  with  grace,  and  bound  to  heaven. 


si'llUTt  AI.  SONO; 


139 


Sometimes  temptations  blow 

A  dreadful  liurricane  ; 
Aud  high  the  waters  flow, 
And  o'er  the  sides  break  in ; 
But  still  my  little  ship  outbraves 
The  blust'ring  winds  and  surging  waves. 

AVhen  I,  in  my  distress, 

My  anchor,  hope,  can  cast 
Within  the  promises, 
It  holds  ray  vessel  fast; 
Safely  she  then  at  anchor  rides, 
Mid  stormy  winds  and  swelling  tides. 
4. 

But  when  a  heavenly  breeze 

Springs  up  and  fills  my  sail, 
My  vessel  goes  with  ease 
Before  the  pleasant  gale  ; 
And  runs  as  much  an  hour,  or  more. 
As  in  a  month  or  two  before. 

The  Bible  is  my  chart, 

By  it  the  seas  I  know  ; 
I  cannot  with  it  part, 
It  rocks  aud  sands  doth  show ; 
It  is  a  chart  and  compass  too, 
AVhose  needle  points  forever  true. 

C. 

When  through  the  voy'ge  I  get, 

(Though  rough,  it  is  but  short,) 
The  pilot  angels  meet 
To  bring  me  into  port ; 
And,  when  I  land  on  that  blest  shore, 
I  shall  be  safe  forever  more. 


140 


SPIRtTl  AI.  SONCiS. 


ORESTES.    8s  & 


L.  Thompson. 


1.   Vain  are   all  ter  -  res  -  trial  plea-sures ; 
-0—0  0- 


-0—0 — 0- 


--=]: 


Mix'tl  witli  dross  the  pu  -  rest  gold ;  Seek  we  then  for 


 I  >--!  i^- 


:[i=:t=:*=:^ 


  0.jL.0^0-.0. 


ly  treasures — Tr( 

— :=:z:t:*=:i(=:i'=:=:itz=ir:rf 

J-.-- T^-J — I-tH — I — i — \-T-J-.—^ 


heav'nly  treasures — Treasures  never   wax  -  ing  old. 

—0—0- 


Let    our    best  af  - 

fee  -  tions  cen  -  tre 

On  the 

SPIRITUAf.  flONOS. 


141 


things  a  -  round  the  throne :  There  no  thief  can 


 0.^-0 — 0  0 

'    ev  -  er  en-tei- ;  Moth  and  rust  are  there  unknown. 

— :=:zz:=:=±-fz:i^-^-tz±t=*-:i=" 

Earthly  joys  no  longer  please  us  ; 

Here  would  we  renounce  them  all ; 
Seek  our  only  rest  in  Jesus, — 

Him  our  Lord  and  Master  call. 
Faith,  our  languid  spirits  cheering. 

Points  to  brighter  worlds  above ; 
Bids  us  look  for  his  appearing ; 

Bids  us  triumph  in  his  love. 

May  our  light  be  always  burning. 

And  our  loins  be  girded  round, 
Waiting  for  our  Lord's  returning, — 

Longing  for  the  welcome  soiind. 
Thus  the  Christian  life  adorning. 

Never  need  we  be  afraid. 
Should  he  come  at  night  or  morning, 

Early  dawn  or  evening  shade. 


142 


WHEN  SHALL  AVE  ALL  MEET  AGAIN  V 

lllpllli<llll 


iiiiiliiiiii 


SFIKITI  AL  >)ONi;S. 


143 


I.  ^Yhen  the  dreams  of  life  are  fieil, 
When  its  wasted  lamp  is  dead, 
When,  in  cold  oblivion's  shade, 
Beauty,  wealth,  and  fame  are  laid  ; 
Where  immortal  spirits  reign. 
There  may  we  all  meet  again. 

Note.— This  poetry,  it  is  said,  w.is  " composed  and  suug  by  tliice 
Indiana,  who  were  educated  at  Dartmouth,  at  their  last  interview 
before  leaving  college,  in  an  enchanting  bower,  whither  they  had 
often  resorted,  and  in  the  midst  of  which  grew  a  '  youthful  pine.' 
Nearly  half  a  century  afterwards  they  providentially  met  again— 
the  recollection  of  bygone  days  drew  them  to  the  same  spot,  and, 
at  a  meeting  still  more  affecting,  they  composed  and  sung  the  fol- 
lowing."— Tradition. 

THE  MEETING. 

1.  Parted  many  a  toil-spent  year, 
Pledged  in  youth  to  mem'ry  dear ; 
Still,  to  friendship's  magnet  true. 
We  our  social  joys  renew  ; 
Bound  by  love's  unsever'd  chain. 
Here,  on  earth,  we  meet  again. 

'2.  But  our  bower,  sunk  to  decay, 
Wasting  time  has  swept  away  ; 
And  the  youthful  evergreen, 
Lopp'd  by  death,  no  more  is  seen  ; 
Bleak  the  winds  sweep  o'er  the  plain. 
When,  in  age,  we  meet  again. 

.'3.  Many  a  friend  we  used  to  greet. 
Here,  on  earth,  no  more  we  meet : 
Oft  the  fuu'ral  kuell  has  rung ; 
Many  a  heart  has  sorrow  stung, 
Since  we  parted  on  this  plain, 
Fearing  ne'er  to  meet  again. 

4.  Worn  with  toil,  and  sunk  with  years. 
We  shall  quit  this  vale  of  tears  ; 
And  these  hoary  locks  be  laid 
Low  in  cold  oblivion's  shade  ; 
But,  where  saints  and  angels  reign, 
Wc  all  hope  to  meet  again  I 


144 


Sl'lKlTUAL  SUNCii 


THE  CHARIOT.  12s. 


Williams. 


1.  Tlio  chariot !  the  chariot  I — its  wheels  roll  in  fire, 

2.  The  glo  -  ry  !  the  glo  -  ry  !  around  him  array'd  ; 


As  the  Lord  Cometh  down  iu  the  pomp  of  his  ire ; 
Migh -ty  hosts  of  the  an  -  gels  now  wait  on  the  Lord- 


iiiillisiSiii 


Lo !  self-mov  -  iug,  it  drives  on  its  path-way  of  cloud, 
And  the  glo  -  ri  -  fied  saints  and  the  mar-tyrs  are  there, 


l:=:tif:t=-t=:t:±:tizt-ti±:t=t 

iiiiSiiilSli 

And  the  heav'iis  with  the  hur-den  of  God-head  are  bow'd. 
And  there  all  who  the  palm-leaves  of  vie  -  to  -  ry  wear. 


sl'lUin  AL  SUMis. 


145 


The  trumpet  1  the  trumpet !  the  dead  all  have  heard  ; 
Lo  I  the  depths  of  the  stone-cover'd  charnel  are  stirr'd ! 
From  the  sea,  from  the  earth,  from  the  south,  from  the 
north, 

All  the  vast  generations  of  men  are  come  forth. 


Tho  judgment !  the  judgment ! — the  tlu-ones  all  ai-e  set, 
Where  the  Lamb  and  the  white-vested  elders  are  met ! 
There  all  flesh  is  at  once  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord, 
And  the  doom  of  eternity  hangs  on  his  word. 


0  mercy !  O  mercy  ! — \>tok  down  from  above, 
Gi-eat  Creator,  on  us,  thy  sad  children,  with  love ! 
When  beneath  to  their  darkness  the  wicked  are  driven. 
May  our  justified  souls  find  a  welcome  in  heaven  I 


THE  YOUNG  CONVERT.  C.  M.    S.  Hill. 

iii^iilsiipi 

I.   ^\  hen  converts  first  be  -  gin    to    sing — 
Their  hap-py  souls  are  on    the  wing — 


;1 

— 

Won-der,  wou-der,  won  -  der ;  )  ,ni  •  ii  „  •  „ii  „„ 
Glo  -  rv,  hal  -  le  -  In  -  jah!  )  " 

iHiilEliiiiiiiii 


146 


SI'IRirUAI,  SONOS. 


deeming  love — Glo-ry,  lial  -  le-lu-jah!  Fain  would  they 


:ztz:t=&=:f=:-?=if; 

i 

be  with  ( 

 T 

^hrist  above — Sin 
.0—0  

g,  Glory,  hal  - 

le  -  lu  -  jah! 

13.  T 

ley  wonder  why 
Wonder,  wonder, 

)ld  saints  do  t 
wonder ; 

't  sing — 

And  make  God's  earthly  temples  ring — 
Glory,  hallelujah  I 

They  view  themselves  upon  the  shore- 
Glory,  hallelujah ! 

And  think  the  battle  all  is  o'er — 
Sing,  Glory,  hallelujah ! 

3.  The  Bible  now  appears  so  plain- 
Wonder,  wonder,  wonder ; 

They  wonder  they  should  read  in  vain — 
Glory,  hallelujah! 

The  air  is  all  perfumed  with  love — 
Glory,  hallelujah! 

And  earth  appears  like  heaven  above — 
Sing,  Glory,  hallelujah ! 


YE  SHALL  SEE  ME. 


1.  We  shall  see  a  li-ht  appear,  By-and-by,  when  He 
•->.  We  shall  shout  al.ove  the  fire,  By-and-byovheu  He 


comes  :  We  sha 

ear,  When  H 

etc. :      Ride  on.' 

Wo   are  on  our  jouvuey 


3.  We 
E 
Wc 


sec,  itc. 


k-,  &C. 


148 


THE  SAINT'S  SWEET  HOME.  lis. 


i^=5±?ii:?=Jz±i' 


1.  "Mid  scenes  of  con-fu-sion  and  creature  corn-plaints. 
An     a-lien  from  God,  and  a  stran-ger  to  grace, 


How  sweet  to  mj'  soul 


-  mu-nion  with  saints! 


i-der'd  thro'  earth,  its  guy  plea-s 


To     find    at  the  ban  -  quet  of   mer  -  cy  there  "s  i 
In  the  path  -  way  of   sin     I    con  -  tin  -  ued  to  roam, 


And  feel  in  tlie  pre  -  sence  of  Je  -  sus  at  home — 
Un-mind-ful,  n  -  las !  that  it     led  me  from  home — 


m 


149 


home, — Pre  -  pare  me. 

if 

dear 

Home, 

\—S— 

home — 

 1  

sweet,  sweet 
T  T 

,z:*z: 

— g  

I  LJ  J_^l.l  

2(1  ending. 

h     •  t*--lt,l— 

I    Sa-viour,  for  liea-ven,  niv  homo. 

The  pleasures  of  earth  I  have  seen  fade  awaj' ; 
They  bloom  for  a  season,  but  soon  they  Uecaj' ; 
But  pleasures  more  lasting  in  Jesus  are  given. 
Salvation  on  earth  and  a  mansion  in  heaven — 
Home,  home,  &c. 

4. 

Allure  me  no  longer,  ye  false  glowing  charms  ! 
The  Saviour  invites  me — I'll  go  to  his  arms; 
At  the  banquet  of  mercy,  I  hear  there  is  room ; 

0  there  may  I  feast  with  his  children  at  home — 

Home,  home,  &c. 

Farewell,  vain  amusements — my  follies,  adieu ; 
While  Jesus,  and  heaven,  and  glory  I  view, 

1  feast  on  the  pleasures  that  flow  from  his  throne. 
The  foretaste  of  heaven,  sweet  heaven,  my  home — 

Home,  home,  &c. 

G. 

The  days  of  my  exile  are  passing  away. 

The  time  is  approaching  when  Jesus  will  say. 


150 


-ii'iurn  Ai.  SONGS. 


Well  clone,  faithful  servant,  sit  clown  on  my  throne. 
And  dwell  in  my  presence,  forever  at  homo. 
Home,  home,  &c. 

Affliction,  and  sorrow,  and  death  shall  be  o'er. 
The  saints  will  unite  to  be  parted  no  more  ; 
Their  loud  hallelujahs  fill  heaven's  high  dome. 
They  dwell  with  their  Saviour  forever  at  home. 

Home,  home — sweet,  sweet  home, — 
Receive  me,  dear  Saviour,  to  glory,  my  home. 


THE  PROMISES. 

lAihptcd  to  the  tunc  on  the  following  pi^e-l 

I.  How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord, 
Is  laid  for  your  faith  in  his  excellent  word  ! 
AVhat  more  can  he  say  than  to  you  he  hath  said, 
Vou,  who  unto  Jesus  for  refuge  have  fled  ? 

'2.  In  every  condition,  in  sickness  or  health. 
In  poverty's  vale,  or  abounding  in  wealth ; 
At  home,  or  abroad,  on  the  land,  on  the  sea, 
As  thy  days  may  demand  shall  thy  strengtli  ever  be. 

?,.  When  through  the  deep  waters  I  call  thee  to  go. 
The  rivers  of  woe  shall  not  thee  overflow  ; 
For  I  will  be  with  thee  thy  troubles  to  bless, 
And  sanctify  to  thee  thy  deepest  distress. 

4.  When  through  fiery  trials  thy  pathway  shall  lie. 
My  grace,  all  suflScient,  shall  be  thy  supply ; 
'I'lie  flame  shall  not  hurt  thee — I  only  design 
Thy  dross  to  consume  and  thy  gold  to  refine. 

.5.  Even  down  to  old  age,  all  my  people  shall  prove 
My  sovereign,  eternal,  unchangeable  love  ; 
And  when  hoary  hairs  shall  their  temples  adorn, 
Like  lambs  they  shall  still  on  my  bosom  be  borne. 

C.  The  soul  that  on  Jesus  doth  lean  for  repose, 
I  will  not,  I  will  not  desert  to  his  foes ; 
Tliat  soul  though  all  hell  should  endeavor  to  shake, 
I  '11  never — no,  never — no,  never  forsake. 


DELAY  NOT. 


t  bn  Is     f^ec  : 


m 


The  love  and  compassion  of  Jesus  thy  God  ? 
A  fountain  is  open'd — how  canst  thou  refuse 
To  wash  and  be  cleansed  in  his  pard'ning  blood : 


3.  Delay  not,  delay  not,  0  sinner,  to  come — 

For  mercy  still  lingers,  and  calls  thee  to-day ; 
ller  voice  is  not  heard  in  the  shades  of  the  tomb — 
Her  message,  unheeded,  will  soon  pass  away. 

4.  Delay  not,  delay  not — tlie  Spirit  of  grace, 

Long  grieved  and  resisted,  may  take  its  sad  flight, 
And  leave  thee  in  darkness  to  finish  thy  race, 
To  sink  in  the  gloom  of  eternity's  night. 

5.  Delay  not,  delay  not — tlic  hour  is  at  hand  ; 

The  earth  sliall  dissolve,  and  the  heavens  shall  fade ; 
The  dead,  small  and  groat,  in  the  judgment  shall  stand ; 
What  helper,  then,  sinner,  shall  lend  thee  his  aid? 


52 


SI'lKirUAl.  SONGS. 


THE  BANK  OF  HEAVEN.    C.  M. 


Tune— ZERAII 


1.  I   have    a    nev  -  er  -  fail  -  ing  bank,  A 

2.  'T  is  when  my  stock  is  spent  and  gone,  And 

more  than  gold  -  en  store  ;  No  earth  -  ly  bank  is 
I     with -out    a    groat,    I'm  glad   to   has  -  ten 

ihalf  so  rich — How  then  can  I  be  poor '? — No  earth-ly 
to    my  bank.  And  beg  a    lit  -  tie    note  : — I 'm  glad  to 

zq*:=edr[:^:iii:i=i=izi=|;i:^--;iri 


r  It  t; 

l.iank  is  half  so  rich — How  then  can  I  be  poor  ? 
has-ten    to  my  bank,  And  beg  a     lit  -  tie  note. 


ril'IKliXAl.  bONOS. 

3  Sometimes  my  Banker,  smiling,  says 

Why  do  n't  you  oft'ner  come 
And,  when  you  draw  a  little  note, 
Why  not  a  larger  sum  ? 

4  -  Why  live  so  niggardly  and  poor  ? 

Your  bank  contains  a  plenty  ; 
Why  come  and  take  a  one-pound  note, 
When  you  might  have  a  twenty  / 

5  "  Yea,  twenty  thousand,  ten  times  told, 

Is  but  a  trifling  sum. 
To  what  your  Father  has  laid  up, 
Secure  in  God  his  Son." 

G   Since  then  my  Banker  is  so  rich, 
I  have  no  cause  to  borrow  : 
I  '11  live  upon  my  cash  to-day. 
And  draw  again  to-morrow. 

7    I 've  been  a  thousand  times  before, 
\nd  never  was  rejected  ; 
Sometimes  my  Banker  gives  me  more 
Than  ask'd  for  or  e-xpected. 

S    Sometimes  I 've  felt  a  little  proud, 
I 've  managed  things  so  clever  ; 
But  ah !  before  the  day  was  gone 
1  'vc  felt  as  poor  as  ever. 

9  Sometimes  with  blushes  on  my  face. 

Just  at  the  door  I  stand  ; 
I  know  if  Moses  keep  me  back, 
I  surely  must  be  daiim  d. 

10  T  know  my  bank  will  never  break- 

No,  it  can  never  fail :  _ 
The  firm— Three  persons  m  one  God  , 
Jehovah— Lord  of  all ! 

]  1    Should  all  the  banks  of  Britain  break. 
The  Bank  of  England  smash- 
Bring  in  your  notes  to  Zion  s  bank. 
You  'U  surely  have  your  cash. 


153 


SPIRITUAL  SOJJtiS. 

12.  And  if  you  have  but  one  small  note, 
Fear  not  to  bring  it  in  ; 
Come  boldly  to  this  bank  of  grace — 
The  Banker  is  within. 

1 ;-!.  All  forged  notes  will  be  refused, 
Man's  merits  are  rejected ; 
There's  not  a  single  note  will  pass 
That  God  has  not  accepted. 

1  i.  'T  is  only  those  beloved  of  God, 
Redeem'd  by  precious  blood. 
That  ever  had  a  note  to  bring — 
These  are  the  gifts  of  God. 

15.  Though  thousand  ransom'd  souls  may  say, 
They  have  no  notes  at  all — 
Because  they  feel  the  plague  of  sin. 
So  ruin'd  by  the  fall: 

IG.  This  bank  is  full  of  precious  notes. 
All  sign'd,  and  seal'd,  and  free — 
Though  many  doubting  souls  may  say, 
T'here  is  not  one  for  me. 

17.  Base  unbelief  will  lead  the  child 
To  say  what  is  not  true  ; 
I  tell  the  soul  who  feels  self-lost. 
These  notes  belong  to  you. 

IS.  The  leper  had  a  little  note— 

"Lord,  if  thou  wilt  thou  can!" 
The  Banker  cash'd  his  little  note, 
And  heal'd  the  sickly  man. 

19.  We  read  of  one  young  man,  indeed, 

Whose  riches  did  abound ; 
But  in  the  Banker's  book  of  grace. 
This  man  was  never  found. 

20.  But  see  the  wretched  dying  thief, 

Hang  by  the  Banker's  side  : 
He  cried,  "  Dear  Lord,  remember  me !" 
He  got  his  cash — and  died. 


INDEX  TO  HYMNS. 


Ul  IS,  WcM 

Pi^c  1.'4 

liiirkslider  s  Lament,  the  

Baoksluler  s  Return,  the  

Bank  ot  Heaven,  the  

l.'i 

  46 

1  )_' 

Kihle.  the                                                                      l  ' 

Uunal  ot  Mrs.  Judson,  the  

  lU 

C  ull  to  Smuers,  a  

(  hanot,  the  

141 

Christian's  Experience,  the  

  131 

(.  hristuui's  Farewell  

C  hristian's  l-arewell,  the  

(  hristian  bokher,  the  

  (Ki 

(  hn.stiau's  Sousr.  the  

  -^f, 

(  hnstian  Victor,  the  

(  hnstian's  Vovaw.  the  



Clirist  in  the  Garden     11 

Christ's  Crucihx.1011   1:i 

Cross,  the  

  4K 

Daniel  in  the  Lion  s  Den  

  7!) 

Daniel  s  VV  isdom  

Delay  not  

  1.^)1 

Description  of  the  Children  ot  God  

Dies  IriB  

  21 

Dviii''  Itov.  the  

  1 1  •> 

DvuiL'  Oirl  to  her  Sister,  the   -Jii 

J'.ihcacv  of  the  .\touiug  Blood  

  117 

I'aithfiil  Seiiiinel,  the  

  110 

I'amily  Bible,  the  

  101 

Orlory  be  to  God  alone  

  103 

Good  Morninsr,  Brother  Pilijnm  

  57 

Gvspc'I  bhip,  the  

  62 

Gospel  bteamer,  the  

  10 

Happy  Man.  the  

 71,  128 

Heavenly  Pilgrim,  the  

  15 

Heavenly  Uailroiul   .. 

  CB 

Heavenly  S")iiiidinj;s  

  Si; 

loG  INDEX  TO  UVMNS. 

lie  doeth  all  things  well  Page  32 

Here  is  a  Band  of  Brethren  dear   18 

Hermit,  the   53 

Home  111  Heaven   47 

Home  of  the  Soul   67 

How  sweet  the  Memory  of  the  Dead   96 

I  have  no  I'ather  there   105 

liuiuiu  s  Expeneuoe,  the   54 

Knights  of  Malta   50 

Tjast  Trumpet  s  Sound,  the   65 

Lav  up  nearer.  Brother   69 

Lite  of  a  Christian,  the   3 

Little  Hvinn.  the   94 

Magnetic  Toh-rai.Ii,  the   39 

March  al■ouna^T,■nls:Llcnl   19 

Meal  and  Cruse  of  ( lil,  the   4 

Ministry  of  Angels,  the   43 

Missionary  s  Grave,  the   61 

Mote  and  lieam.  the   30 

Mountaineer's  Farewell,  the   56 

My  Father's  Land   86 

Xan-uw  Way,  the   51 

New  Gospel  Sliip,  the   66 

Oft  in  the  Stilly  Night   122 

<  >ld  Family  Bible,  the   87 

( »ld  Israelites,  the   105 

Old  Oak-Ti  ec,  the   28 

One  in  Christ  .lesus   130 

Our  bondage  it  shall  end   68 

Our  Kindred  dear  to  Heaven  have  gone   97 

I'rodigal's  Return,  the   108 

Promises,  the   150 

Pure  Testimony,  the   133 

Resurrection  Hymn,  the   91 

Ruler's  Daughter,  the   116 

Saerifieo,  the   71! 

Sttiiif*  S« ....•(  H..IU-.  tlie   148 

Saw       eiv  Savi.iUi    8 

Star 'in  tlie  East,  the   102 

Scattered  Household,  the   33 

Selling  Heaven   61 

Sceptic,  spare  that  Book   9 

Slave's  Appeal,  the   29 


IXUKX  lU  KlKSr  LINKS  Ol-   11VM>>;.  157 

Tempest,  the  Page  34 

Thev  know  not  what  they  do                                       .  35 

Three  Friends,  (the)— The  Separation   142 

••     Meeting   143 

Triumph  of  the  Christian   110 

Vain  w  orld,  adieu  !   12t'> 

Vaudois  Teacher,  the   4<i 

Warning  to  Sinners,  a   G 

Weary  at  Rest,  the   17 

We"ve  found  the  Rock   23 

When  I  set  out  for  Glory   93 

When  Joseph  his  Brethren  In-'held   73 

M'hen  shall  we  all  meet  again  ?   142 

White  Pilgrim's  Grave,  the   89 

Whither  goest  thou.  Pilgrim  Stranger  ?   83 

Why  those  fears  ?   88 

Wife,  the                         ,  72 

Worldly  Pleasures  renounced   140 

Ye  shall  see  me   147 

Young  Lady's  i.xpenence,  the   46 

Y'oung  Convert,  the   145 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES  OF  HYMNS. 


Adieu!  adieu!  I'm  dyhig  now  Page  24 

A  father  is  praying  the  Saviour  to  hear   116 

A  few  more  days  on  earth  to  spend   55 

Afflictions,  though  they  seem  severe   108 

Along  the  smooth  and  slender  wires   39 

A  mixture  of  joy  and  trouble  I  dailv  do  pass  through   3 

Among  the  Jewish  nations  one  Daniel  there  was  found....  79 

Away  from  his  home,  and  the  friends  of  his  youth   110 

Brightest  and  best  of  the  sous  of  the  morning   102 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  before  us   17 

Burst,  ye  emerald  gates,  and  bring   103 

By  the  poor  widow's  oil  and  meal   4 

Come,  all  you  knights,  you  knights  of  Malta   50 

Come,  little  children,  now  we  may  partake  a  little  morsel  9^ 
Come,  ye  that  love  the  Lord   St 


158  IXDEX  TO  FIKST  LINES  OF  HYMNS. 


Daniel's  wisdom  may  I  know  Page  84 

Dark  and  thorny  is  the  desert   15 

Day  of  wrath,  that  day  of  burning   21 

Delay  not,  delay  not — 0  sinner,  draw  near   151 

Enlisted  with  Jesus  to  fight  against  sin   60 

"  Go,  bring  me,"  said  the  dying  fair   64 

Good  morning,  brother  pilgrim   57 

Happy  the  spirit  released  from  its  clay   121 

Here  "is  a  band  of  brethren  dear  ."   18 

How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord   150 

How  happy  is  the  man  who  has  chosen  wisdom's  ways. 71, 128 

How  painfully  pleasing  the  fond  recollection   87 

How  sweet  the  mem'ry  of  the  dead   96 

I  came  to  the  spot  where  the  white  pilgrim  lay   89 

I  have  a  never-failing  Bank   152 

T  have  sought  round  the  verdant  earth   131 

1  'm  tired  of  visits,  modes,  and  forms   48 

In  a  lone,  silent  spot,  'ueath  the  sad  drooping  willow   61 

In  de  dark  wood,  no  Indian  nigh   54 

1  received  a  gospel  letter   10 

I  remember  how  I  loved  her,  when  a  little  guiltless  child  32 

1  saw  a  w  ide  and  well-spread  board   99 

I 've  shipp'd  on  board  the  gospel  ship   66 

.loyftilly,  joyfully,  onward  I  move   119 

Lay  up  nearer,  brother,  nearer   69 

Let  party  names  no  more   130 

Mid  scenes  of  confusion  and  creature  complaints   ..  148 

Mother,  I 'm  dying  now   112 

Mother,  what  makes  my  father  gone  ?   35 

Mournfully,  tenderly,  bear  on  the  dead   114 

My  brother,  will  you  meet  me   19 

(),  brethren ,  T  ha\c  found   2G 

(),  call  I,     ^iiiiiiji-,  come   75 

Oft  in  tli,              nl-ht   122 

(>,         thou  _i(  :il  Creator  f  29 

<»,  lady  lair    tlioe  silks  of  mine   40 

Once  1  loved  my  Redeemer,  his  flock  and  his  fold   45 

O,  they  crucified  my  Saviour   91 

Our  bondage,  it  shall  end  by-and-by   68 

Our  kindred  dear  to  heaven  have  gone   97 

(),  whore  is  my  father — my  guardian,  my  guide   33 

f),  w  here  can  the  soul  find  relief  from  its  foes   67 

I'arted  many  a  toil-spent  year   143 


INDEX  TO  KlRr^T  LINES  OK  IIYM^•^^.  lO.< 

Saw  ye  my  Saviour  ?  Saw  ye  my  haviouv  >  I'age 

Sceptic,  spare  that  Book  ••••   -.^ 

She  clung  to  him  with  woman  s  lo^e   .^^ 

Since  meridian  light  commences  

The  chariot !  the  chariot  !-its  wheels  roU  m  fii.   1^^+ 

The  Christian  Pilgrim  sings  

The  dream  is  past— I  m  dying  now 
The  Gospel  Ship  has  Ion-  been  sailing 

The  line  to  heaven  by  Christ  wa.  made  ,^ 

The  mMning  sun  rose  bright  and  clear  ■■■■■■^  

The  "d  IraeUtes  knew  -1-*  i^^?,; 'li^;??''''  Hi 

The  pure  testimony,  put  forth  m  tlie  >pint  

There  is  an  eye  that  never  sleeps 

There  is  a  fountain  till'd  with  blood  

There  is  a  place  where  my  hopes  are  stu)  d  

The  Son  of  Man  they;  did  betrav 

This  Book  is  all  that  s  left  me  uovv  

-  '•^p^-  ,1 

Through  tribulation  deep..  :-'"V"VrV  '  86 

To  heaven  I'm  bound  with  prosp  rous  gaUs  

140 

Vain  are  all  terrestrial  pleasures  

We  have  come  from  the  mountains.  

We  shaU  see  a  li^ht  appear^   3^ 

We  were  crowded  in  the  cabin......   ^ 

We 've  found  the  Rock,  the  travellers  cried  

A\niat  poor  despised  company^   , 

When  shall  we  all  meet  asain 
Whit's  this  that  steals,  tlat  steals  upon  my  frame 

A\Tien  converts  first  begin  to  sing  

When  for  eternal  worlds  we  sleei  

When  I  set  out  for  glory....... 

When  Joseph  his  brethren  behe  d 

When  nature  was  sinking  in  stillness  to  rest  

When  pitv  prompts  me  to  look  round  

When  the  last  trumpet's  sound....  

Which  of  the  petty  kings  of  earth  

Whither  goest  thou,  pilgrim  stranger  .'  

Why  these  fears  ?— behold  'tis  Jesus  

Woodman,  spare  that  tree  

Ye  people  that  wonder  at  me  and  mj  ways  

Ye  who  know  your  sins  forgiven  


12i 


INDEX  TO  TUNES. 


All  is  Well.    10s,  3s  &  8s  Page  124 

Bank  of  Heaven.    CM   152 

Burial  of  Mrs.  Judson.    Cs  &  5s,  or  10s  &  lis   lU 

Burst,  ye  Emerald  Gates.   7s  &  6s   10" 

Chariot.    11  &  12s   11+ 

Delay  Not.    lis   151 

Dying  Boy.    G,  10,  10,  i   112 

K.N.poricnof'.    8,  5,  8,  5,  .5,  7.  5,  4   131 

Faithful  Sentinel,    lis  &  12s   110 

Fountain.    C.  M   117 

(iospel  Freedom.    8s  ..t  7s   13G 

Hanover,    lis  &  10s   102 

Happy  Man.    13s  &  12   128 

I  have  no  Father  there.   CM   99 

Oft  in  the  Stilly  Night.    6,  7,  6,  7,  8,  7,  8,  7,  G,  7,  6,  7   122 

Old  Israelites.    12s  &  9s   105 

Orestes.    8s  &  7s   140 

Prodigal's  Return.    C  M   108 

Pure  Testimony.    12s,  8s  &  lis   133 

Patler's  Daughter,    lis,  or  6s  &  Ds   116 

Saint's  Sweet  Home,   lis  &  5   148 

Sonnet.    8s  &  4   126 

Triumph.    10s   110 

Tnity.    S.  M   130 

Voyage.    6,  6,  6,  6,  8,  8,  or  H.  M   138 

When  shall  we  all  meet  again  ?   7s,  6  lines   142 

Ye  shall  see  me.    7,  6, 7, 3,  7,  7   147 

Yonng  Convert.    C.  M   145 

Zerah.    C.  M   152 


